


Not My Brother

by AngeliaDark



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adoption, Gaster is not Sans's father, M/M, Papyrus is kind of a creep, Post-Pacifist Route, Rekindling Relationship, Sibling Jealousy, Void Gaster, Yandere Papyrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 49,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliaDark/pseuds/AngeliaDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Asriel absorbed and released all of the souls, it really was ALL of the souls.  Dr. Wingdings Gaster has returned, and seeks to rekindle his old relationship with Sans.  Papyrus doesn't like that someone is taking his big brother away from him and strives to do ANYTHING to keep Gaster's attention off of his Sans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It was...strange.

Even in the omniscience of the Void being a boon on his side, it all became a big, blinding flash of WHITE before the silence of the Void became UNBEARABLY loud with the sound of thousands of Monsters all crying out as one.

It was too much. 

TOO MUCH

 **ST͜͡OP͏͜ ̴͝͝Į̴̀T҉!**   he cried out, his voice becoming just another pitch thrown into the hellish timbre.  **M̢͠A̶͘K͘E͘͜ ͘͞I̸T ̛͟͠S͟T̷͝O̢͜͞P͏͘** **!!!**  

It felt like his soul was being tied to a string and swung around by a hyperactive child, crashing and smashing, wrenching the magic for SOMETHING, same as everyone else. 

It hurt.

IT HURT

IT

HURT

He was in agony.  It was worse than the Void.  He wanted it to end.  He wanted to just

not

exist

anymore

.

.

.

.

And then

it was over.

The screaming stopped.

The wrenching hold on his soul was released.

He felt comfort.

He felt

love.

Comfort.

Familiarity.

A presence he hadn't been so physically close to since...

* * *

 

_"Dr. Gaster?  Your next appointment is here."_

_"Oh good, send him in!"_

_"Heya, Doc!  Th' name's Sans!"_

* * *

 

And in another flash of white, in a breath of literal fresh air, he was wrenched away from that presence--

\--and he found himself in Hotland, staring at his hands.

HIS hands.

That could feel the hot stone under him.

He could feel the steaming air blow across his skull.

He could feel the weight of his own bones.

His own, bare bones.

Oh.

Oh DEAR.

The sound of someone approaching sent him into a brief panic, feeling himself be jerked out of his point in space and expelled right into another, an equipment room in the labs.

The labs.

HIS labs.

The uncomfortable weight of his own frame weighted heavier than blue magic as he braced himself up on a wall and pulled himself upright, cursing gravity forever before mentally--and literally--smacking himself in the head.  Gravity.  Of course.  He brushed his hand over his sternum, turning his own soul blue and manipulating his magic into easing the gravity off of himself and making standing easier.  He leaned against the wall, panting softly from the exertion of the simple action before looking down at his hands.

His physical hands.

Untwisted.

Unmelted.

Perfectly whole hands.

He pressed his hands to his face, feeling the same of his skull.  He trailed them lower, looking down and seeing his bones, an actual Skeleton's frame instead of the melded, disgustingly fused state his body had been in.  He was whole.  Just like...

........like......

.......before.

He slumped down the wall, his body shaking violently as he curled his arms around himself, tears dripping out of his eye sockets and down his face.  If this is REAL....if HE was REAL....

....then he was BACK.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to leave everyone hanging with just a prologue, so here's the first chapter! They'll be a bit more spread out from now on!

The relocation process out of the Underground was long and slow, but a necessary hardship to endure for the promise of a better life in the future. As Asgore put it, 'getting the work out of the way for the pleasure of living later'.

For that very reason, many Monsters volunteered for a census, taking record of everyone who decided to leave the Underground so they could be put on record for both safety and organization reasons. For those very safety reasons, a good number of Monsters elected to stay Underground, too set in their ways to pick up and move their entire lives elsewhere.

The majority that chose to stay were Monsters who made their homes in Hotland, where the Core would continue to provide them power and comfort. More than a few scientists were remaining behind, so maintaining the Core would be no issue.

Still, to maintain some order, it was decided that a certain number of Monsters would leave the Underground every week, making it easier to keep track of everyone. Weekly census was taken to Frisk, who kept record of it with Asgore and Toriel and helped everyone find their new homes. Traffic control went to Undyne and Papyrus while Sans showed more work ethic than even he thought possible picking out areas for people to live in, keeping tailored areas for specific Monsters in mind.

They were lucky enough to be in a coastal area with an ocean on one side of the mountain range and a lake in a valley on the other, so Water Monsters had their pick of where to live. Monsters accustomed to the cold were redirected to the mountains, where a new community was built at the top.

Monsters with specified trades volunteered to be a part of an integration program in the nearest city, which was small and out of the way because of the mountains, but still big enough to set up the Monster/Human Relations Embassy. After the initial whirlwind of reintroduction to the two races, arrangements were made so Monsters and Humans could begin relearning how to interact amicably.

It was difficult. Hurts from the older Monsters who could still remember the War and the wariness of humans made the integration process very delicate and seeming to be always on a hair-trigger. However, the Monsters' genial natures and the humans being more curious than afraid had hands reaching out on both sides to meet in the middle, with some great help from those who went the extra mile.

Grillby opened a restaurant on the edge of the city, inviting both Monsters and humans as patrons, and after a few drinks, neither race seemed to care about anything except who could stuff the most fries into their mouths at once.

(It was Sans. It was ALWAYS Sans.)

Mettaton quickly gained a fan club of humans and was very much NOT afraid to use his aesthetic wiles to get attention and change some minds. He made it known that he would NEVER play for a segregated audience, and that ALL fans were his favorite fans.

The more open-minded humans reached out as well, hurrying out zoning areas for Monsters to begin building right away, higher-up officials looking over the credentials of some Monsters and giving them applicable permits and degrees. Alphys being mentioned as being the one to build Mettaton's body had engineers practically throwing degrees and invitations to conventions at her, begging her to share her visions.

Toriel was granted a teaching certificate and opened a school for Monster children, but made it known that human children were more than welcome to attend. So far, she had only a handful of human children sent by the more open-minded of parents among the dozens of Monster children, but the school was well-received and opened the possibilities of the Monster children of those who moved into the city to attend human schools.

Asgore spent most of his time helping Frisk with the ambassador work, representing the Monster race as they represented the human race and making things run that much more smoothly. Together with Toriel, they helped select a human adult as a more 'legal' ambassador, but he was a kind, decent man—the mayor's aid of the city, actually—who pulled strings to make things run more smoothly and always taking Frisk's ideas and visions into consideration.

Slowly, but surely...things settled.

Homes were built.

Jobs were created and worked at with gusto.

Children went to school and learned.

And Sans could look out the window of the coffee shop—after promising himself he'd help support the local economy around the city and giving Grillby a much-needed break from instigating mouth-stuffing contests—and see humans and Monsters walking side-by-side, feeling a soft contentment in his soul.

His own life was going pretty well. Although once the hype died down and he and Papyrus realized that they would be leaving Snowdin behind forever, they took the time to carefully pack everything and make sure NOTHING was left behind before going to their new home in the village on the border of the city.

It was a small community in the valley, something Sans was surprised Papyrus preferred, what with his little brother being such a people-person. They had a decently-sized house with an accompanying shed, just like their old home in Snowdin, and it was built to be as closely resembling that home as possible to make the transition easier.

Sans thanked his lucky stars that he saved up his gold so carefully over the years; the exchange rate up here was INCREDIBLE, and even the most modestly-paid Monsters found themselves more than ready for fresh starts. It left him enough to buy Papyrus a red convertible after his little brother got his driver's license on the first try. It was pricey, but the look on Papyrus's face made it priceless.

He took a sip of his coffee, taking a pause in his people-watching when he saw a couple walking down the sidewalk holding hands, feeling a twinge of bitterness in his soul. Although he had harbored a genuine interest in Toriel, it quickly became apparent that between Toriel focusing on her school and Frisk, and Sans focusing on Papyrus, a relationship just wasn't realistically in the cards. Although they still called and texted and met up every other week for coffee, it was obvious that it wouldn't go any further than that.

It wasn't...BAD, per se, but Sans was almost completely settled, his brother was grown and able to hold his own job, and what he wanted more than anything was a COMPANION. He was past the point of being a guardian, of being a big brother, and now...he wanted to settle down.

His choices were limited, though. Toriel's life belonged to her children. Grillby was married to his restaurant. His other single-date folk were either too busy putting their own lives together or already found someone else.

Sans rubbed his nasal bone, sighing. It was a long, long time ago, but he could still remember when he was younger and stupider and thought that he never had to go through this, EVER.

Ugh, that young naivete, when he thought anything could last forever...

He sat up when his phone vibrated in his pocket, taking it out and clicking it on, seeing that it was a message from the Underground Relocation agency, telling him that there was a special case they needed his help with.

And on his day off, too. This had to be important.

He texted back a quick 'be there soon' before shoving the phone back into his pocket and picking up his coffee cup, stepping through the doorway of the coffee shop and vanishing from view.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_“Dr. Gaster? Your next appointment is here.”_

_Gaster looked up from his filing, giving his intern a smile. “Oh good, send him in!” He sat back at his desk, feeling a glimmer of excitement. He had been in the searching for a new lab assistant, but so few Monsters REALLY understood what it was he was trying to achieve. However, the theoretical resume that this new prospect sent in went BEYOND his expectation, and he was eager to meet him._

_“Heya, Doc!” came a voice from the door, making him look up and give a hard pause. “Th' name's Sans!”_

_…...he was a Skeleton._

_The Skeleton—Sans—was short, hardly above the height of a teenager, but the octave of his voice indicated that he was already in adulthood. He seemed to have a permanent wide grin on his face, though that could simply be the anticipation of possibly working side-by-side with the Head Royal Scientist._

_Gaster shook off his initial shock of seeing another Skeleton Monster HERE and stood up. “Please, come in,” he said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the desk. Sans did so, walking in and sitting himself down, posture plainly saying he normally was not one to naturally sit up straight and proper, and Gaster put in a guess that the tidy clothing was another thing that was not the norm for this Monster. “So. You are Sans.”_

_“Eeyup.”_

_Well, at least the mannerisms and speech was natural; Gaster guessed that he must be from the Eastern Capitol area, where Monster families stuck together in clans and kept to themselves. He drummed his fingers over the folder on his desk. “Your theoretical work is quite impressive,” he said, then folded his hands together on the desk. “But tell me why YOU should be my research assistant.”_

_“Because I'm one of only three who applied, I know my physics, and my theoretical work most closely coincides with the work that YOU are doing,” Sans replied bluntly. “I want to work here with you because I believe that our combined efforts could reap results. The fact that you are the Head Royal Scientist means nothing. Also, I don't fetch coffee.”_

_Gaster's smile twitched; oh, he liked this guy. Bluntness was something he was hard-pressed to find in even his fellow Royal Scientists. And he was right; Sans's work WAS some of the absolute best he'd ever seen...if they were to combine their efforts..._

_“Well then, Sans,” Gaster said, extending his hand. “I do believe this is the start of a very successful partnership.”_

_Sans's grin broadened, reaching out and taking Gaster's hand, a loud THBBBB sound drawing out, making Gaster jump. Sans withdrew his hand, showing a small whoopie cushion neatly tied to his metacarpals, and gave Gaster a wink. “The ol' whoopie-cushion-in-the-hand trick,” he said. “It's ALWAYS funny.”_

_Gaster couldn't help it._

_He laughed._

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sans hadn't even made it inside the building before sensing that something was off.

For the most part, everything seemed normal. There were Monsters and humans bustling about getting work done, Monsters sitting in a waiting area, patiently waiting for their turns to have relocation counseling, and humans checking in residence permits for the OK to build.

However, when he pushed past the door that led to the back office, his 'off' sense got worse. Undyne was hurrying between Asgore and Alphys, not knowing who needed more help since Asgore was sitting and staring into space and Alphys was taking panicked breaths into a paper bag. “What the hell is going on?” he asked, getting a bad feeling.

Undyne shook Asgore's shoulder, reminding him to breathe before turning to Sans. “Frisk came back up with someone new. ...You'll have to go in there and see for yourself,” she replied. “Asgore's not talking and Alphys BARELY said your name before she started hyperventilating.” She headed back over to Alphys, making her girlfriend lean over to control her breathing.

Sans looked at the door next to them, his hands clenching tightly in his pockets as he headed up, lifting one hand and putting it on the doorknob before opening it. The first thing he saw was Frisk, who seemed to be the only one not in some sort of conundrum, and relaxed a bit; at least Frisk was okay.

Secondly, he saw that Frisk was sitting next to someone who was shrouded in a blanket, which seemed a bit odd to him. It was sunny and warm outside and even he swapped out his usual blue coat for a light windbreaker. He stepped into the room, giving Frisk a brave smile. “...heya, kiddo,” he said. “Got a text in...someone new come in I should know about?”

Frisk swallowed hard before nodding, reaching over and touching were the arm of the Monster would be under the blanket. Underneath, the Monster appeared to be shaking violently. “...it's okay,” Frisk said softly. “It'll be okay.”

Thoroughly confused by this point, Sans decided to turn to comedy to ease the situation. “Yeah, c'mon, buddy,” he said, shrugging as though this situation wasn't incredibly confusing and awkward. “I mean, _tibia_ honest, this is getting pretty weird.” To his surprise, the Monster actually snorted.

“....oh, Sans...” Sans felt electricity shoot up his spine, his hands shaking as the Monster slowly reached up—exposing long, elegant bony hands—and lowered the edge of the blanket, exposing a pearly white skull and dim but amused eye lights within dark sockets. “...you haven't changed a bit.”

Sans remained frozen in place, feeling as though his mind was glitching violently to the point where it blue-screened and 404 ERRORed at the same time and it STILL didn't do what he was feeling justice. This was impossible. This was WRONG.

This

Was

WRONG

His vision went blue as his magic began reacting to his panic, a loud buzzing, rushing sound echoing through his skull almost agonizingly, putting him on his knees. This couldn't be..it COULDN'T BE—!

“Sans!”

He became aware of hands holding his shoulders—just holding, not shaking or squeezing, just giving him something to focus on and ground to, bringing him back to the present and clearing his vision just enough to see

HIM.

GASTER.

Gaster's eyelights were gleaming a bright purple, his expression full of worry, his jaw moving but Sans could only hear one work out of every six. His own soul was pulsating wildly and he absently wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like—

A blanket of magic enveloped around him, and suddenly, the shaking stopped.

The pulsations of his soul began to slow.

His vision cleared.

The roaring in his skull died down.

He breathed easier.

Sans deftly looked down at himself, seeing that there was an aura of purple magic misting over his body, enveloping him like an old, familiar comfort like a jacket buried back in the closet for ages, only to be found again. His own aura calmed, he looked back up to see Gaster's eyelights glowing brightly, his hands hovering over Sans's shoulders as the purple magic took hold and calmed him down.

He was able to think more clearly now, and finally sort everything into neat little slots in his mind.

Gaster was HERE.

Not in a Void-space. But HERE.

Gaster was WHOLE—not that horrifying half-melted scarred monstrosity Sans would catch glimpses of in his peripheral, but WHOLE.

Gaster was HERE.

GASTER WAS HERE.

GASTER

WAS

HERE—

Sans's fist shot out as he clocked Gaster across the face, knocking the other Skeleton right back on his bony ass, giving him no time to recover before jumping onto him and half-punching, half-slapping at him.

“YOU BASTARD—!”

“—YOU DON'T LISTEN TO MY WARNINGS—“

“—YOU FALL ASS-FIRST INTO THE GODDAMN CORE—“

“—YOU AVOID ME LIKE THE FUCKING PLAGUE—“

“—YOU AVOID _PAPYRUS_ LIKE THE FUCKING PLAGUE—“

“—AND NOW YOU HAVE THE _AUDACITY_ TO SHOW YOUR FACE HERE—“

“—I SHOULD RIP YOUR GODDAMN SPINE OUT THROUGH YOUR EYE SOCKET YOU SON OF A BITCH—!”

“—HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME—!?”

“—HOW COULD YOU...?!“

“...h...how COULD you...?”

Sans dropped his fists, his vision blurring from tears welling up and spilling over his eye sockets as all of the fight and strength left him, collapsing onto Gaster and sobbing helplessly into the other Skeleton's chest. After a few moments, he felt tentative hands curl around his back and quietly pet his head and scapulae comfortingly.

Oh gods.

...he was back...

…...his Gaster was back.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

_Sans, as it turned out, was incredible to work with._

_Gaster had admittedly not had much company with other Skeletons, besides his own family, which seemed to be the complete opposite of Sans. Sans made mention of coming from a small family called the Serifs, who stuck to their own little corner of the Underground so faithfully, many Monsters didn't even know they existed._

_He could understand that; during and right after the War, Skeletons had been pariahs on both sides, for being both human-like enough in form to be shunned by the Monsters, and being downright massacred by the humans for being 'evil mockeries of human life'. Gaster only counted his lucky stars for being from such an elite family and close enough to the Royal Court to escape such a prejudiced life, but others were not so lucky._

_The Serifs were apparently the unlucky types, if Sans's guarded nature and reclusive family were anything to go by. When not cracking jokes or having to put on a face to work with others, Gaster would see him crawl into his own little world, sit by himself during breaks and lunch hours, and shy away from unnecessary physical contact._

_As put-offish as it made him to others, those things instead made Gaster all the more interested. He already knew the ins and outs of his own family, but Skeleton families of lower classes were entirely new to him. Old customs, casual mannerisms, and foreign magics were concepts that he hadn't had much time to ponder over, what with his elite status in his youth and then the horrific frenzy of the war, and he truly wanted to know more about his own people outside of the ivory elite walls his own family had set up around him._

_It started off with small talk between work, questions about Sans's family, interests, and magics. It also started off at a snail's pace and with the patience only a scientist could stand, it still took weeks before Sans finally began to open up._

_Gaster learned that Sans's own branch of family was small, but close-knit. Sans always had a high intellect and an odd way of looking at the world through physics, even to where he described seeing 'coding' in the matter of everything, and truly sought to find a way to manipulate it somehow. As for his magics, Gaster found him to be a master of blue magic, his expertise in physics giving him a boon to mastering a magic that dealt with gravity manipulation._

_As for his view on the world and social standing...that took more time to uncover._

_The Serif family tree had been trimmed down to twigs by both the War, and the prejudice of Monsters in the Capitol. Sans had little trust in most Monsters outside of his species for that very reason, always watching his back for the first sign of conflict._

_It was...sad. Gaster thought it truly SAD that Sans and his family couldn't even fully immerse and interact with their own race, simply for being Skeletons. Truly, Gaster had been living a rose-colored life in the elite class, his own family being spared that heinous injustice. After listening to Sans, he let the other Skeleton know that if he or his family ever needed for anything, Gaster would do what he could to provide._

_“...heh...you're a real peach, Doc,” Sans said, rubbing his nasal bone tiredly. “...but I've got more pride than that...all th' Serifs do. We provide for our own, we look out for our own. Simple as that.” He gave Gaster a weak smile. “But, ah...thanks for offerin'. Not everyday a Skeleton is shown that much kindness.”_

_Gaster frowned, his hands wringing in front of him. “...I am a Skeleton too, Sans,” he gently reminded. “...I may have had a more...sheltered upbringing...but had I been out there in the Skeleton villages, the humans would have not seen any difference between our two different lives.”_

_He looked out over the high railing and into the hot magma of the Core, where the power extraction component was being improved upon. “...Here, I am a scientist. I studied and worked to gain the position of Head Royal Scientist, getting my hands dirty with whatever was necessary to be at the top of my fields. After the War...titles and classes seem...so paltry and stupid.” He turned back to Sans, giving him a smile. “We're equals, Sans. In every way, down to our species. If a Monster wouldn't call me a corpse to my face, I refuse to let them do the same to you, or your family. That's...what I was actually trying to say earlier.”_

_Sans ducked his head, a dust of blue appearing over his cheekbones. “...yer a great guy, Doc,” he said quietly. “A real credit to th' stuck-up, prissy elite bastards in the Court.”_

_Gaster snorted, covering his face with one hand. “Oh gods, Sans—“_

_“Really, they should be givin' out a title for that!” Sans gestured dramatically in the air. “Lord-Doctor Wingdings Gaster—Not-As-Much-Of-An-Asshole-As-He-Could-Be!”_

_“SANS!”_

_“Esquire.”_

_Gaster was snorting and laughing in earnest, both hands covering his mouth. When he finally got himself under control and looked back up, Sans was grinning. REALLY grinning._

_And Gaster decided, he really liked that smile._

 


	4. Chapter 4

Sans wasn't quite sure how long he cried into Gaster's chest, but he finally cried himself out and just laid there, completely drained emotionally and mentally. And during that whole time, Gaster hadn't let go of him. He could feel Gaster's elegant hands rub up and down his back, bringing back that calming purple aura and making Sans feel like the past almost-three decades were all just a bad dream without Gaster in it.

He then remembered that he wasn't alone in this room with Gaster, flicking his eyelights up to see Frisk sitting back in a corner looking scared and sad at the same time, and felt a twinge of regret in his soul. He hadn't meant to scare Frisk by losing his temper like that, and he was not eternally grateful that PAPYRUS hadn't seen him like that.

Reaching up to wipe his face with his sleeve, Sans sat up and shifted off of Gaster, his face blue with embarrassment and shame. “.......'m sorry,” he addressed them both, wishing for his trusty blue jacket more than ever, just so he could bury himself into it. He ducked his head lower, his shoulders hunching in the habit anyway. “......'m sorry....”

Frisk scooted back from the wall to sit in front of him. “...it's okay, Sans...” they said softly. “...I...didn't know...”

“But I did.” Sans and Frisk turned to Gaster, who was sitting up with his arms curled around himself, his bones having bruising where Sans hit him. “...I expected this reaction....but I still tried to act like....like nothing was wrong...” Greyish tears dripped down his face but he paid them no heed. “........Sans.....you're.....not wrong....I did you and Papyrus both SO WRONG...!”

He buried his face in his hands, shaking so hard the rest of the blanket came off, exposing a frame that looked much thinner and frailer than Sans ever remembered Gaster having, the spare coat he had taken from the labs practically hanging off of him.

Sans sat back, sorting through his emotions before reaching out and curling his arms around Gaster's shoulders. “...'m sorry, Wingdings,” he said softly. “I...didn't mean it like that...I just...” Tears began to well anew in his eye sockets again. “...you....you're HERE......you're really HERE.....I...I just.....!” He pressed his face to Gaster's thin clavicle. “...I don't even know WHAT to feel right now except that I just wanna fuckin' hug you an' kiss you an' beat the shit outta you all at the same time...!”

Gaster curled his arms around Sans again, petting the back of the smaller Skeleton's skull. “...I would not object to any of those things,” he replied softly. “Though I prefer the former, I deserve the latter. He let out a shaky sigh. “...I missed you, Sans...so much...”

Sans sniffed, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. “...I missed you too, Wingdingus,” he said, managing a grin when Gaster snorted. “Gods, we're a mess...I don't even know WHAT to do now...!” He leaned back to sit on his knees, wiping his face dry before his hands rested in his lap. “...I...really don't know what to do...”

Frisk scooted forward, giving them both an encouraging smile. “...well.....Mom and Dad are starting completely over,” they said. “I don't see why you two couldn't.” They flashed Sans a wink and finger-pistols. “It's like falling in love all over again!”

Sans's face turned blue, his head ducking down. “Jeeze, kid, what gave you THAT idea...!?” he stammered.

“Aww, I dunno, maybe it was the mention of hugging and kissing because you looOOOooove him!”

“Frisk!”

Gaster's face took on an odd purple color, tugging the blanket back over his head. “...honestly, has this child ALWAYS been so shamelessly blunt?” he pondered.

“They flirted with Toriel after deciding to call her 'Mom', what do YOU think?” Sans replied, trying to quell his blushing down. “And speakin' of Tori, Frisk, don't repeat all those words I said earlier.”

“Trust me, Sans, I've heard worse from Flowey at the slightest inconvenience. But you ARE right. We should figure out what to do next because Alphys and Dad are kind of useless for help right now, and I'd rather they not die of heart attacks.” Frisk gave Gaster a smile. “I think starting off small is what EVERYONE needs right now. Baby steps. First. What are you going to tell them?”

Gaster's hands wrung into the blanket tightly. “...not much TO say,” he murmured. “...I was in a limbo of the Void...and then I was somewhere DARKER....and then I was HERE, back in reality, with my soul mostly repaired and my body whole again.”

“...Wait,” Sans said, frowning. “...WHEN were you HERE?” Gaster said nothing for several long moments. “...Doc?”

“...the day the Barrier broke.”

Sans's left eye sparked a little. “...that was a year and a half ago...!” he said, his voice shaking. “...you...mean to tell me you've been back for a WHOLE YEAR AND A HALF—“

“I was SCARED, Sans!” Gaster shouted back, pulling the blanket tightly around him. “I was HERE! I was BACK in a place I NEVER thought I'd be able to touch again! What was I SUPPOSED to say!? What was I SUPPOSED to DO!? WHO could I turn to, when those who knew me best either thought me dead, or were dead themselves?!”

He curled up into himself miserably. “...I...wanted to make sure it wasn't just a dream...I had to...readjust on my own...” He rubbed at his eye sockets. “...every time someone came close, I would panic and just...teleport somewhere else. I had to relearn EVERYTHING on my own, from walking to using my own magic again...and since everyone was leaving the Underground, there was little I could do to survive on my own. So little to eat, only empty houses to sleep in...and no one to talk to.

“...finally, I saw Frisk,” he continued, giving Frisk a sideways glance from under the blanket. “...they were walking through, finding stragglers, helping them out...and I recall them being one of the few who could see me outside of a peripheral glance. So...I was able to come back up with their help.”

Frisk gave him a brave smile. “...it was a walk-through from Waterfall,” they said. “I was...pretty surprised, but kind of...not.” They pulled their knees to their chest, hugging them tightly. “...When Asriel took and released all of the Monsters' souls.....it must have been ALL of them, even from the Void. None of the Monsters that were taken in were hurt when I saw them next....so....being in there must've healed him, I think.”

Sans shuddered; that experience was one he never wanted to ever do over again. “...Wow,” he said, rubbing his skull. “...better explanation than any, I guess.” His eyelights flickered up to Gaster. “....Look, Wingdings...I know...things are REALLY messed up now, but trust me....I know a good bit about bein' trapped in something you don't wanna be and then suddenly getting everything good....like it's too good to be true.” He sighed, rubbing his cheekbone. “...I wanna help...as best as I can.”

“Sans, you don't—“

“I know. But...I want to.” Sans reached out, touching his phalanges to Gaster's hand. “...you can...come live with me an' Papyrus.” He gave him a weak smile. “I'm sure he'd love to finally get to know ya. He hasn't seen you since he was a baby bones.”

Gaster let out a soft sigh. “...he doesn't even remember me,” he replied. “He won't remember me. Would I...even be welcome?” He sat up when Sans let out a bark of laughter.

Sans quickly saved face. “C'mon, you mean to tell me you've been watchin' over all of us all that time, an' you really think Papyrus won't welcome a guest?” he said, his voice brimming with mirth. “Gaster. Wingdings. Buddy. Papyrus is the most hospitable Monster anywhere around. He'd be THRILLED to have you in our home!”

Gaster flexed his hands into the blanket quietly for a few moments.  "...I suppose...I could do with spending some time away from Asgore and Alphys and SLOWLY work my way back in," he replied.  "...and I can begin anew with Papyrus."  He gave Sans a small smile.  "...thank you, Sans."

"No problem, Doc," Sans said, grinning before turning to Frisk.  "Mind tellin' Asgore and Alphys I took it from here?"

"Sure thing," Frisk replied.  Sans nodded and curled his arm around Gaster before teleporting them both to his home.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_Once Gaster got Sans to open up more, he found that there was just so much MORE than he could ever have thought._

_Sans wasn't just smart in the scientific way, but in the way where he knew how to deal with most any kind of Monster, even if he didn't particularly like them.  Give a Dog Monster a treat if you wanted a favor; pay your debts to Flame Monsters to stay on their good sides; keep eye contact with Cat Monsters when talking to them to assert your respect.  He could sweet-talk his way into and out of what seemed like ANYTHING, including Gaster's good graces on times when he wanted something, like an extra hour for lunch or a day off._

_Despite his general antisocial tendencies, Sans was a truly kind Skeleton too, and didn't let his pride influence it.  He treated everyone, from the monarchy to the janitor, with the same amount of respect and courtesy, and didn't bother changing his tone or demeanor for either.  As he told Gaster once, 'if my intellect got me here, what does my class or accent matter?'.  And it was true.  And Gaster respected that._

_Sans also had a way of getting people to loosen up and enjoy their work and lives rather than tolerate it.  His cheerful demeanor was contagious, as was his laughter, and after several months, even the most elitist of Monsters would crack a smile at Sans's jokes._

_Gaster, however, loved them from day one.  He loved being able to smile and laugh so easily now, and he loved how happy he was when he was around Sans._

_...and that happiness dimmed a little when he began to notice the way his soul would pulse when Sans was near, when his assistants would wonder why his face was slightly purple after Sans spoke to him, after thinking about Sans at the lab, in his home, in his bed--_

_Oh dear._

_He was in love._

_This was not good._

_****_

_"Hey, Doc, you got a minute?"_

_Gaster's fingers tightened around the pen he was holding for a brief moment before his shoulders slumped.  "Yes, I suppose," he said, putting the pen down and looking up, giving Sans his full attention.  Sans was leaning against the door to his office, hands in pockets and expression almost troubled.  It was a look Gaster hated on Sans; Sans shouldn't look troubled, Sans should look happy, cheerful, adorable--_

_DAMMIT._

_"What did you need?" he asked, folding his hands on the table to keep them from wringing, his nervous habit that Sans NEW he had.  Sans's eyelights flickered to the side for a moment before he stepped inside and shut the door, taking another few steps up to the desk._

_"...did I...do somethin' wrong?" Sans asked, his shoulders hunching down further.  "I mean.....you've kinda been avoidin' me, Doc.  You hardly say more than three sentences to me a day, an'.....if I did somethin' wrong, you can just say so."_

_Gaster remained silent, not know how to respond to that; Sans looked legitimately HURT by his avoidances--perhaps he hadn't been as subtle as he thought--and Gaster was trying to find the words that would HELP the situation out rather than make it worse.  But apparently silence was NOT a decent substitute because Sans's hurt expression went darker.  "...yeah, fine," Sans muttered, his eyelights dimming in their sockets.  "I'll get Al to correspond with you, I get it.  Thanks for tellin' me."_

_He turned to leave and Gaster stood up, scrambling for SOMETHING to say, when Sans put in, "An' I'll be puttin' in my two week's notice, I HATE this awkward shit--"_

_"Sans wait--" Gaster cried, hurrying over and grabbing Sans's arm.  Sans scowled, jerking away._

_"Let go--"_

_"--Sans--"_

_"I SAID LET GO--"_

**_*CLACK*_ **

_Sans cut off, his eyelights shrinking to pinpricks when he felt Gaster's teeth pressing against his._

_Both Skeletons remained motionless for several moments before Gaster leaned back, his cheekbones purple.  "...oh....oh gods..." he muttered, his hands shaking.  "...I shouldn't have done that.....Sans, I'm so--"_

_Sans grabbed his lab coat lapels and jerked him down, pressing their teeth together again as his magic flared, forming a tongue in his mouth.  Gaster barely let his logical argument get a word in before drop-kicking it into the metaphorical Core, forming his own tongue and curling it around Sans's as his hands pulled Sans closer.  Sans let go of Gaster's coat with one hand, blindly reaching back and locking the door seconds before the two stumbled over to Gaster's desk, all of the paperwork going flying as the two Skeletons took their place._

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Sans and Papyrus's home, much like their old home back in Snowdin, was very tidy and very homey with definite signs of Papyrus's personal touch.  However, since the Monsters had access to much more in terms of purchasing, Papyrus had splurged on every cookbook he could manage before Sans threatened an intervention.  The splurge of the cookbooks paired with the ACTUAL cooking classes Papyrus took made the investment worth it, as the younger Skeleton's cooking had improved EXPONENTIALLY.

The moment Sans, Frisk, and Gaster arrived in the middle of the living room, Sans could smell dinner in the oven; judging by the collective scents, it was possibly lasagna.  Weaning Papyrus from spaghetti had been tough, but considering the surprisingly many types of pasta there were, Sans GLADLY welcomed the difference.  And lasagna happened to be his favorite.

He turned to Gaster, noting the Skeleton's ill expression.  "....you can't handle teleportation?" he asked.  Gaster took a few calming breaths.

"I can," he replied.  "I do it myself from time to time.  That's...not why I'm..."  He trailed off, and Sans's eyelights constricted slightly in realization.  He quietly led Gaster to the couch, sitting him down.

"Hey," he said comfortingly.  "It's okay.  Trust me, Papyrus is gonna love you."  He kept his hand firmly on Gaster's shoulder until the other Skeleton relaxed and nodded.  "I'm gonna go get him now, okay?  It'll be okay."  He stood up, heading into the kitchen.

Papyrus was busying himself with dessert--simple tiramisu, by the looks of it--and looked up when Sans walked in.  "I heard voices, brother," he said, beaming.  "Did you bring guests?  You're just LUCKY I always make enough for leftovers!"

Sans rubbed his skull, grimacing a little through his smile.  "Eh...yeah.  Frisk is here," he said, then continued, "...and someone else."  He paused, taking a calming breath before forcing himself to be as casual as possible.  "...and old friend of mine, back from the Underground--"

"Oh, is it Grillby?  Has he come to sample TRUE culinary excellence?"

".......no.  Look.  Remember back when you were really little and I told you I worked at the labs?"

Papyrus seemed contemplative for a moment before getting an 'ah-ha' expression.  "Oh, yes!" he said, nodding.  "You quit when I was a baby bones.  'Not enough legally-required breaks', you said."

"Yeah.  Well...I worked with someone in the labs but he....went away for awhile.  A long time.  And he came back, I found him, and--"

"You wish for him to meet your AMAZING little brother!" Papyrus cut in for him.  "And have him stay for dinner!  Of course!"

"Ah, he's already MET you, Pap," Sans said.  "He left when you were a baby bones...I..."  His smile twitched.  "...I hardly think he'd recognize you now."  Pause.  "...Care to introduce yourself?"

"Yes, I would!"  Papyrus began taking off his cooking apron, his aura gearing up for an exuberant greeting, and Sans quickly stepped in.

"Look, he...hasn't been around a lot of Monsters, so he's...a little delicate.  Okay?"

Papyrus's aura visibly deflated a little, but he still looked excited.  "Oh, okay," he replied.  "...should I get refreshments?"

Sans paused before nodding.  "Some tea would be nice," he said.  "...but I'm sure he could use some of your food too.  Just....well, remember when we had to meet Frisk's tutors?  It's something like that, alright?"  His brother nodded solemnly; meeting with other humans was very delicate work; not all were as open and kind as Frisk, or, apparently, as sturdy to withstand all of his greatness. 

Sans hurriedly made some tea while Papyrus put a timer on the lasagna, and the two of them stepped into the living room, where Frisk was trading off their knowledge of sign language with Gaster's preference for Hands.  "Back with tea," Sans announced as casually as possible, setting the tray down and stepping back.  "...Papyrus, this is my old...friend, Dr. Wingdings Gaster.  Gaster....this is my little brother Papyrus....heh, though he's not so 'little' anymore..."

Gaster nodded numbly, looking UP at Papyrus, his hands nervously wringing tightly; seeing the rest of the world through the Void was like looking at something through wet, murky water.  Gaster learned to adapt by making vague shapes from the auras generated by a Monster's soul, but even that was not always very accurate.  Papyrus's aura was expansive yet controlled, making it difficult to track growth or progress.  Still, he'd never have imagined that Papyrus would have grown to be seven feet tall. 

He slowly stood up to his own full height which almost rivaled Papyrus's, numbly reaching out and touching a cold hand to Papyrus's skull.  "...you've grown," he remarked.  "...I did not imagine that you would be this tall, Papyrus..."

Papyrus seemed a little...off, concerning Gaster's touch, something Sans found odd.  Maybe it was just the tone of Gaster's voice, but normally Papyrus didn't shy away from touch.  "I contribute most of it to drinking milk," Papyrus said, his voice still chipper as always, though Sans saw the normally-bright glimmer in Papyrus's eyelights dim slightly.  "Sans is so small because he refuses to drink it.  And eats VERY unhealthily."  He shot Sans a half-playful/half-serious look as though trying to shift the conversation off.  "But in any case, Sans did not tell me that there were OTHER Skeletons in the Underground.  Nor has he mentioned you once!"

Sans winced; that had been true, but if he didn't know any better, he would think that Papyrus was being deliberately obtuse just to cut the conversation short.  Gaster's hand shrunk back, wringing it tightly within the other.

"...I did not expect him to," Gaster replied quietly.  "...my departure was...abrupt and unplanned.  I was not even sure that I would be returning....and you WERE just a baby bones when I last saw you."  He gave Papyrus a nervous smile.  "...I already know Sans well...but I would like to get to know you too, Papyrus."

"You'll have plenty of time to, since you're staying here for awhile!" Frisk chirped, kicking their legs.  Papyrus's expression went sharp as he put his hands on his iliac crests and turned to Sans.

"Sans, you didn't tell me we would be having a guest over!" he fretted.  "I haven't had time to tidy, or do guest-meal shopping, or ANYTHING!  You must TELL me these things, Sans, this isn't like you're bringing home another Pet Rock!" 

Sans snickered.  "Aw, c'mon, Paps, I guarantee that Gaster'll make a MUCH better house guest than Pet Rock," he replied, pouring out some tea and handing it to Gaster, who took it with a warm thanks in his eyelights that made Sans's cheekbones dust lightly with blue.  "And you wont have to lift a phalange, Papyrus.  He might be our house guest, but I was the one who did the inviting."

Papyrus's eyelights went almost critically sharp as he flicked them between Sans and Gaster before beaming.  "Very well then!" he said, clasping his hands together.  "Our first meal in the house will be lasagna!  I do hope you're ready to eat, Mister Gaster--"

"...it's Doctor, actually," Gaster corrected delicately.  Papyrus waved his hand.

"Oh, Sans was a 'Doctor' too, but I don't call HIM 'Doctor'!" he retorted.  "And in any case, I am one to give proper address and respect to my elders!"  From the kitchen, the timer dinged.  "Oh, my lasagna is ready!"  He hurried into the kitchen, leaving the other three sitting in the living room.

Frisk nibbled their lip.  ".....it's not just me, right?  That was weird." 

Sans sighed, sitting back hard and rubbing his nasal bone.  "Yer not wrong," he muttered back.  "'Give proper address and respect to my elders', just how old does he think we ARE?"

Gaster contemplated his tea, frowning.  "...how old _I_ am, Sans," he replied before taking a sip.  "...though I am curious as to how old he thinks YOU are."  His smile twitched when Frisk let out a snicker.

"Yeeeeeeah," they drawled.  "Just how old ARE you, Sans?  You really just a weirdo old sciencey man who likes making bad jokes?"  Sans snorted, flinging a couch pillow into their face with a flash of blue magic.

"Yeah, kid, old enough for YOU to respect YOUR elders!" he said.  "We're not OLD, jeeze, you an' Paps are actin' like we're one foot in th' grave already!"

"I'm gonna start calling you 'old man Sans' now!"

"Do that an' I'll tell Tori where you REALLY learned all those swear words from!"

Gaster put a hand over his teeth, stifling back laughter as his cheekbones tinged Purple with mirth.  Gods, he had missed all the ways Sans could make him laugh, and hoped he could have more of it to come.  He had such a long time to make up for.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_Things were a bit...awkward, after that day in Gaster's office._

_After a VERY vigorous make-out session on his desk, Gaster and Sans broke apart, sat there in dumb, awkward silence for a long time, and then Sans straightened his clothes, mumbled something about needing to get work done before rushing out.  Gaster remained sitting there on his desk, his face buried in his hands, thinking that he just ruined EVERYTHING.  
_

_The feeling didn't go away for DAYS, especially when this time, it was Sans that was avoiding him.  Confident he had effectively ruined his friendship with Sans, Gaster resigned himself to the new situation; he was used to a life without friends...REAL friends, anyway.  Acquaintances and colleagues had always been enough for him.  So he threw himself back into his work, accepting that emails and intern drop-offs as being the only contact he would ever have with Sans again._

_Stupid._

_He'd been so STUPID._

_He should have let Sans leave...he should have at least SAID something along the lines of just not feeling well._

_Instead, he'd let his libido take over, practically mauled Sans on his desk, and still hadn't SAID anything._

_Gaster became more withdrawn and shut in, locking himself in his office and throwing himself back into his work with all the vigor he had when applying for Head Royal Scientist.  He wouldn't let this interfere with his job.  He COULDN'T let it.  He had a higher responsibility than anyone else here.  He told himself a relationship with Sans would just...complicate everything, would distract him from work...  
_

_He wasn't even aware that he had dozed off until a hand shook his shoulder and he jerked up, a piece of paper sticking to his cheekbone.  He peeled off the paper and rubbed his face before readjusting his glasses, jumping when a cup of hot coffee appeared in his line of vision, held by a bony hand.  He glanced up, seeing Sans staring down at him with almost worried eyelights.  "...hey," Sans said softly, setting the cup down.  "...you've been in th' office for almost two days straight."_

_Two DAYS?!  Gaster winced, rubbing his eye sockets as he let out a soft groan.  No wonder everything felt so muddled...  He picked up the coffee cup and took a sip, now fully aware that Sans was still standing next to him, unmoving, and kept his gaze on the cup to avoid the inevitable awkwardness, albeit how brief the avoidance would be._

_Finally, Sans let out a sigh and sat himself on the edge of Gaster's desk, his hands clenching in his lap.  "....listen..." he said quietly, his cheekbones tinging blue, "...I didn't mean t' just.....leave like that."  He reached up and rubbed his nasal bone.  "...it was just...a lot to take in, ya know?"_

_Gaster took another sip of coffee before putting it down.  "....I know," he replied.  "Sans....I'm sorry....really, I am...!"_

_"For which part?" Sans asked, side-eyeing him.  "For ignoring me?  Givin' me mixed signals?  Some great bone-fondling on your desk?"  His smile twitched at the purple blushing and sputtering that last bit before going quiet again.  "....it was just...very sudden, Doc...and kinda out of nowhere."  
_

_Gaster sighed, leaning his head on a hand.  "...it was," he concurred.  "...and I'm sorry for that too.  But...I...I just...."_

_"Doc," Sans interrupted, giving Gaster a firm look.  "...what did it mean?  Why didja do it?"_

_Gaster remained silent for a few long moments before sighing.  "....I...like you," he finally said, his cheekbones purple.  "I...really like you.  I feel...good when I'm around you.  You make me laugh...you make work enjoyable....you're smart and great company, and...I thought that saying so would just...make things awkward."_

_"...and making out on your desk was less awkward."  Sans snickered when Gaster buried his face in his hands and let out a groan.  "Listen, Doc....you gotta be smart enough to know that if I don't like someone, I'd never go as far as we did, for as long as we did it.  But...it's not exactly somethin' you WANNA confess to your boss, y'know?"_

_There was more silence before Gaster raised his head.  "...so what now?" he asked.  Sans shrugged a little._

_"You're th' boss," he replied.  "...your call."_

_Pause._

_"....I'd....like to get to know you...a little more," Gaster said, hesitating before shifting his hand to put over Sans's.  Sans smiled, his own face dusted blue._

_"...so would I."_


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner was actually pretty good, and the awkwardness of the greeting from earlier seemed to be but a memory.  

While Sans and Frisk did enjoy the lasagna, both noticed the vigor that Papyrus and Gaster ate; Papyrus because no matter WHAT he cooked he always ate with gusto, and Gaster, rather, seeming like he hadn't eaten in DAYS and asked for seconds and even thirds.  That seemed to give him  brownie points with Papyrus, as the younger Skeleton gladly filled his plate each time.

Sans leaned his head on his hand, watching with amusement.  "Slow down there, Wingdings, before you explode," he said, grinning.  Gaster blushed purple around the cheekbones, dabbing off his mouth with a napkin.

"...I apologize for my manners," he replied quietly.  "...I have...not had such good food in...a very long time."  He gave Papyrus a smile.  "You are quite a good cook, Papyrus."

Papyrus beamed proudly.  "But of course!" he boasted.  "I AM the Great Papyrus!  But you simply MUST leave room for the tiramisu!"  Gaster's expression waned slightly.

"Oh...no, I couldn't really..." he said.  "Sweets don't really sit well with me."

As though sensing a definite change in atmosphere, Frisk looked between Gaster and Papyrus, whose smile seemed more frozen than natural.

"I made it from scratch," Papyrus said.  "And it's the first tiramisu I've ever made."

Gaster wrung his hands a little.  "....er....that's......very nice, Papyrus..." he replied.  "But...I am not accustomed to rich foods....it may be too much for me, if it's truly as good as you said it is."

"I'll eat double to even it out," Sans put in.  "Seriously, you'd think you were tryin' to feed th' Doc into a coma."  Papyrus's frozen smile thawed a little after a few seconds as he gathered up the dishes.

"Any reason to sneak extra snacks," he huffed.  "Honestly, Sans, you could stand to eat more healthily!"

"Plenty of time to do that when I'm dead."

"The dead can't eat.  Are you finished now, Mr. Gaster?"

Gaster nodded a little, picking up his empty plate.  "I am, yes," he replied.  "...would you like me to help do the dishes, Papyrus?"

"Nonsense!" Papyrus retorted, grabbing the plate.  "You are a GUEST.  It would be rude of you to do the chores of someone who LIVES here!"  He headed back into the kitchen, the sound of the sink being turned on resonating moments later.  Back at the table, Gaster buried his hands into his face.

"...he hates me," he muttered morosely. 

Sans's head shot up, giving Gaster an incredulous look.  "What?  No, are you even kidding me?"  He sighed.  "Look, I know he might be a little....off today, but that could be ANYTHING.  He DOES get a little frantic whenever something clashes with his personal schedule, but he's just kinda...weird about that."

"Alphys said it borders on OCD," Frisk put in, tracing their finger into the table top.  "He can't deal with change that he doesn't bring on himself.  Remember when they changed out the slurpee flavors out in the store without warning?"

"...Frisk, it wasn't THAT bad."

"He asked to see the manager, raised a commotion in the store, and wrote LETTERS until they got the old flavors back."

Sans rubbed his skull.  "...yeah, okay, he can be a little...set in his ways...but that's HIS issue, not Wingdings's.  And he'll adjust well enough."  He gave Gaster a smile, which faltered when Gaster gave him a helpless look.

"Is it really going to be trouble with me being here?  I...I don't want him to be uncomfortable..."  He trailed off when he felt a hand on his, looking up to see Sans's smaller hand over his own.

"...give it a few days and he'll love you so much, he won't want you to leave," Sans said, his smile as earnest as possible.  "And don't worry about dessert, he doesn't deal that much in sweets himself...I'm sure it's more espresso than ladyfingers by this point, but the other stuff is good.  So just relax, alright?  It'll be okay."

Gaster smiled, his cheekbones dusting purple as his other hand reached over and rested on top of Sans's.  "...thank you, Sans," he said quietly, his shoulders slumping tiredly, something Sans noticed.

"...you wanna skip dessert and go to bed?" Sans asked.  "When was the last time you ACTUALLY slept?"

Gaster raised one shoulder in a tired shrug.  "I never actually felt...RIGHT, sleeping in other Monsters' homes," he replied.  "Something or the other would always keep me awake...or someone coming would wake me up and I would leave.  It's been that way since I......since I came back." 

Sans squeezed Gaster's hand lightly.  "You don't need to worry about that here," he said firmly.  "You're safe here.  No one's gonna kick you out, so you can sleep to your heart's content.  You can have my room, I'll sleep on the couch."

"Oh Sans, no, I don't want you to be put out of your own room--"

"Wingdings, I hardly sleep in there anyway, it's no big deal."

"But--"

"Why don't you guys just sleep in the same bed?" Frisk said, startling them both into respective purple and blue blushes.  "...what?  I've already got some context about you two, and you're gonna tell Papyrus EVENTUALLY--"

"NOT anytime soon!" Gaster said firmly.  "Please.  I...wouldn't want to intrude more into his life."

Sans sighed, squeezing Gaster's hand again.  "And I'm tellin' ya, you're not intruding," he said before standing.  "C'mon, let's get you to bed.  We can flesh out the details in the morning, okay?  AFTER you've gotten some decent sleep."  He remained standing until Gaster nodded and stood up, still clutching the blanket around his shoulders like a safety net, and walked with Sans up the stairs.  "Hey, Paps," Sans called down, "Wingdings is gonna go to bed, alright?  He's had a REALLY rough day."

There was a beat or two of silence before Papyrus answered, "Of course, brother!  Should we take our dessert on the back porch so to not disturb him on the couch?"

"Nah, he's sleepin' in my room!  I'll be right down, alright?"

This time, Frisk noticed, Papyrus did not respond.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_Sans smelled different._

_It was normally not anything that he would notice unless it WAS different; always, ALWAYS, despite it being a year and a half on the Surface, Sans smelled of wintery air with a faint undertone of ketchup.  It was an odd combination, but it was familiar.  It was home.  It was SANS.  
_

_But Sans smelled different._

_Resting atop the wintery ketchup scent was something else, something that hovered over like a summery mist; it smelled of Hotland, of sterility, of mustiness; the contradicting combination being enough to put Papyrus's teeth on edge.  He disliked Hotland, he always had; he disliked the labs; he disliked the shut-in, packed-away smell that came with ANYTHING._

_And the source of the scent was IN HIS HOME._

_AND COVERING SANS._

_This was different than Sans coming home with the ever-so-faint residual scent of open flames and bar polish, or of butterscotch and cinnamon; those scents were fleeting, and vanished within minutes of Sans coming home.  THIS new, unwelcome scent clung to Sans like a leech, permeating his brother down to the SOUL, TAINTING HIS HOME._

_And Papyrus didn't like it._

_The scent lingered even after the source was gone, infecting the familiar scents of winter, ketchup, and gourmet cooking in such a way that it made Papyrus want to clean everything top to bottom, including Sans...but the off-putting source was a guest in his home; SANS'S guest._

_This 'Wingdings' had not truly done anything as heinous as his scent would suggest; and it was natural that a newly-Surfaced Monster would be tired and delicate.  He himself had to adjust his sleeping schedule until he found a proper circadian rhythm to work with up here._

_But the way Sans looked at his guest, the way Sans spoke to him, the way that SCENT just CLUNG to him--_

_\--in the same way Wingdings had a hint of wintery ketcup on him too--_

_\--it did something UGLY to Papyrus's soul._

_He didn't LIKE this feeling.  He didn't LIKE that this ONE Monster pushed every button he had, and even a few he didn't even KNOW he had, until he came to a conclusion._

_.......this Wingdings Gaster HAD to go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, holy shiz, a post-chapter scene from Papyrus's POV. Eeeeeeek.


	7. Chapter 7

Adjusting to the Surface was a tiring experience for Gaster, but he managed to power through it like he always had. After a VERY long time to sleep—thirteen hours' worth—he began exploring his new home, starting with the nearby village.

There were curious looks from Monsters who had never seen another Skeleton Monster outside of Sans and Papyrus, but at least there were no rude inquiries. There was a shop to browse through, a library—with proper spelling and a MUCH wider selection—and Sans's favorite patronage, Grillby's.

At this time of day, Grillby's wasn't very busy, but the Flame Monster gladly welcomed him and gave him a meal on Sans's tab, assuring Gaster that Sans had informed him ahead of time and had arranged it. Gaster nodded his thanks, eating quietly as Grillby gave him the ins and outs of the village and the city, the safe zones, and some dos and donts to follow. Gaster understood why Sans was so fond of Grillby; the Flame Monster was a wealth of information and help, including some catching-up on Sans and Papyrus.

“Sans started coming in as soon as he was settled,” Grillby was saying as he arranged his drink shelf. “It was a little discerning how often he came in for a drink, considering he was leaving his little brother alone at home.” His flames flickered slightly. “Even before he was even old enough to come in, Papyrus would stalk right into my bar and demand that Sans come home...” He trailed off thoughtfully, making Gaster put his glass down and sit up at attention.

“...what is it?” he asked. Grillby's hands clenched into his cleaning cloth for a moment before he continued.

“...Sans used to have a drinking problem,” he said quietly. “He'd deny it, but....as often as he came in, and for as long as he stayed....he sometimes forgot to go home at night.” He sighed. “One night, it was late, and Sans was five bottles in and not leaving anytime soon when Papyrus came in. He...had to have only been fourteen at the time, but he walked in, grabbed Sans right off of the bar stool, and...” He paused for a moment. “...and he started shouting at me for 'keeping Sans from home on purpose' before dragging Sans out of the bar.”

He put the cloth down, his shoulders slumping a little. “...Never felt more guilty in my life for selling alcohol...and Sans wasn't seen for three days before he finally came back in. He started drinking ketchup, staying only for a couple of hours instead of half the night, and going home at eight-pm sharp. And even to this day, Papyrus all but refuses to come into my restaurant...he just sort of stands outside and waits for Sans to come out. I suppose he blames me for Sans's old drinking problem.”

Gaster felt a shudder run up his spine; he honestly had no idea it had gotten that bad. “...it wasn't your fault,” he said quietly. “...it was...mine, I suppose.” He rubbed his nasal bone, sighing. “But...you helped take care of them...you watched out for them, and I can't thank you enough for that.”

Grillby nodded. “I did try,” he replied. “...Sans...often seemed lonely, and I tried to help with that too.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Although, Papyrus seemed less than pleased.”

“How so?” Gaster asked. Grillby's vague expression turned oddly uncomfortable.

“He....well, he wasn't outright RUDE, or antagonistic....but I could sense his disapproval. VIVIDLY. And you'd never think of him as a master of the backhanded commentary. It was obvious that Papyrus was just...so unhappy, so it didn't really go anywhere with Sans and me.”

Gaster was getting a very horrible red flag sensation; that all sounded familiar as his own experience with Papyrus. “And he...hasn't eased up? Warmed up to you at all?” Grillby shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “I made a bad impression early in his life, and it's...very difficult to change his mind...” He snorted. “Oh, who am I even kidding, I made his shit list and he wrote me in with permanent marker. I doubt anything short of me closing my bar forever will fix that.”

There was an awkward silence before Gaster sighed and finished off his drink. “...in any case...thank you,” he said. “Sans speaks very highly of you, and he has a good judge of character. I personally find you likable and friendly, and I look forward to coming again.”

Grillby nodded, his expression lightening. “I look forward to it as well,” he said. “Should I open up your own tab?”

“You might as well,” Gaster replied, smiling. “I'm getting some paperwork filed out that will get me a job in the science labs. I am loathe to leave debts unpaid.”

“Don't worry about it,” Grillby said. “Whether you let it pile up or not, a Skeleton pays his debts. I know that for a fact.” He took out a tab book and penciled Gaster in, pausing after he put it away. “...Gaster,” he said quietly, glancing back at the Skeleton. “...if...you ever want to talk, you're more than welcome here. I know things that Sans...or Papyrus...probably won't want to talk about.”

Gaster smiled gratefully. “Thank you,” he replied. “You've already helped me immensely. But...I SHOULD be going now. Sans wants to take me shopping for some new clothes.” His fingers plucked at the jacket he was wearing. “These are actually Papyrus's...Sans let me borrow them for the interim.” He turned to the door, completely missing Grillby's stricken expression. “Thank you for the meal and the talk, Grillby!”

Grillby watched Gaster leave, his flames simmering down slightly. He truly hoped they finished shopping before Papyrus was due home.

* * *

 

Gaster was pretty happy to be in clothes of his own that actually fit.  He was lucky enough that the local stores had fashions he used to enjoy, namely comfortable sweaters and slacks, but also the security fashions he came to NEED, like a fine, long coat that was meant for the winter, but the length and volume made him feel more secure, much like the numb comfort of the Void.

It was so strange, thinking of the Void as a comfort zone when it used to be hell itself.  But in the Void, there was no one who stared at him, no unsolicited comments, no awkward conversations...it was a lonesome fate, but it was comfortable.  Even now, Gaster could hardly relax unless he was huddled under a thick blanket that blocked out light and sound, and for that very reason, Sans gave him every spare blanket in the house to cocoon himself in, not saying a word about Gaster's preferred method of coping.  He didn't outright say it, but Sans had an inkling of what Gaster must have felt, and now craved, and strove to accommodate as best he could.

So now, the coat would have to suffice whilst in public.  Gaster didn't very much mind; it was better than dragging a blanket everywhere, and it was comfortable enough to wear everywhere, including inside the house.  As such, he practically nestled back into it as he sipped his tea while going over some credential transfer paperwork with Sans.  It seemed that it wouldn't be too difficult; he WAS the former Head Royal Scientist and his credentials were the stuff of envy among every other scientist there.  His PhDs would be no problem to properly transfer, though his MD would probably need some tweaking; as of now, only two others would ever require the expertise of someone trained in Bone Magic.

"Sounds about right," Sans said, putting a paper down.  "You just need to show 'em somethin' to prove your expertise, an' you'll have a job in no time."

Gaster smiled.  "I have a few things in mind," he answered.  "Thank you, Sans."  He honestly enjoyed the small window of time he had alone with Sans; although they hadn't picked up where they left off--gods, how COULD they, after all this time?--they both could sense a sort of renewal, starting over but with familiar territories to work with.  Beginning as a friend/colleague-type deal seemed to be working best, and they both caught themselves slipping into old habits.  Gaster would begin gesturing with his hands when he spoke, instead of keeping them in his lap or wringing them nervously; Sans, he noticed, was slipping back into his East Capitol accent and reverting back to casual behavior.  It was welcoming and...nice. 

Gods, it was like working in the labs and getting attached to Sans all over again, he thought as he tidied up the table.  Not that he didn't MIND, but...it was still very delicate territory.  Before his...disappearance, which had been a psychologically-scarring event in and of itself, things had gotten a bit tense with Sans, concerning their juggling of work and relationship.  They hadn't truly talked it out or made up before the accident, so it was tedious work getting back to a level they were both comfortable with.

He was just putting away the last of his work-related things when Papyrus came in carrying four loads of groceries in one go, making a beeline for the kitchen.  Like he had seen this countless times before, Sans deftly shooed any items or furniture away from Papyrus with his magic to clear the path, looking endlessly amused as his little brother's enthused antics.  "Do not make plans to go out, I am creating a new dish!" Papyrus shouted from the kitchen, the sounds of groceries being haphazardly arranged or put away almost drowning him out.  

Sans grinned.  "Do we get to know what it is, or is it going to be a surprise?" he asked, already knowing the answer was, 

"A SURPRISE!  I have to change clothes, do NOT go peeking, Sans!"  Papyrus headed out of the kitchen, passing Gaster before pausing and glancing back, making the older Skeleton somewhat nervous; Gaster REALLY hoped Papyrus didn't figured out he wore his clothes for a brief time.  "...you were at Grillby's today," Papyrus stated.

Gaster nodded.  "I was," he replied almost cautiously.  "How--?"

"The smell of his...establishment lingers," Papyrus said.  "Bad enough Sans must go there all the time--"

"I've only been ONCE this week, Paps--"

"--but please shower after going there so I don't have to smell it.  The smell of grease is nauseating."

That seemed a little rich to Gaster; Grillby's restaurant was nothing but clean and well-managed with hardly a grease spot to be seen.  But from collective context, Papyrus apparently had the olfactory senses of a Dog Monster, and would pick up any scent he didn't particularly like.  "...very well," he replied.  "Although, the establishment IS rather nice, and I was cashing in an apparently free meal courtesy of Sans."  He gave Sans a coy look, which Sans tried to pretend he didn't see.  

Papyrus glanced between them.  "...I see.  And how did you enjoy it?"

"It was...fine.  No substitute for a home-cooked meal, but the company was nice."  Was it imagination, or did Papyrus almost look...pleased?

"Oh, so you got along with Grillby!" Papyrus chirped.  "It's good that you're making new friends, Mr. Gaster!  You must get so lonely here, with Sans and I gone at work most of the day, perhaps hanging out at Grillby's is just the thing for you!"  He gave Gaster a grin that could only be described as coquettish.  "Maybe even a little 'play date' could be in order."

"PAPYRUS, GEEZE!" Sans yelped, his cheekbones blue.  "He talked to Grillby ONCE, that's not exactly the start of anything serious!"

Papyrus beamed, looking amused.  "Oh, brother, that's how ANYTHING serious starts!  Two older gentlemen finding much-needed companionship, why, it's practically a chapter in and of itself in the Date Manual!"  He turned on heel, seemingly oblivious to the darker hues of color the other Skeletons were sporting.  "I'll be right back down to start dinner!"  

After he vanished upstairs, Sans buried his blue face in his hands and let out an embarrassed groan.  "Ohhhhhh, my god," he muttered.  "I cannot effing believe my brother is trying to set you an' Grillby up."  

Gaster sat down on the couch, trying to quell down his blushing.  "HOW did he manage to get ROMANCE from me having lunch at Grillby's restaurant!?" he wondered, mostly to himself.  "Has he ALWAYS been like this!?"

Sans shook his head, rubbing his face.  "Not as far as I know," he replied.  "But hey, don't sweat it, alright?  Grillby's a great guy, but he's....well....much more of a friend type than th' boyfriend type.  Commitment isn't really his thing, y'know?"

Gaster didn't reply with more than a noncommittal shrug, but Grillby's story started to get to him...about how he and Sans tried a relationship but Papyrus's unhappiness with it broke it up.  And it seemed that while Grillby was happy being Sans's friend, the Flame Monster would've very much liked a relationship.  It was even made clear that Papyrus did not like Grillby...and yet he was encouraging a 'relationship' with him.

Odd.  Very...very odd.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_Gaster sighed, rubbing his nasal bone as he gave up trying to read through the reports for the fourth time over, pushing them away as he took his glasses off.  He was too tired to do this right now, he thought as he leaned back in his chair and opened his drawer, fishing around for his cigarettes.  He rarely indulged in the habit, but right now he felt he deserved a little vice after all this tedium.  After a few drags, he looked at his empty coffee cup and sighed, wondering if it would be worth it to go home for a few hours of sleep before he had to come right back here._

_"Knock-knock."_

_He looked up, hearing Sans's voice through his door.  "Oh...come in!" he called._

_Silence._

_"...you're supposed to ask 'who's there', Doc."_

_Gaster rolled his eyelights, rubbing his face.  "Really, Sans?  It's quite late."_

_"Knock-knock."_

_"Sans."_

_"Knock-knock."_

_"Oh, for--who's there?"_

_"Dishes."_

_Sigh.  "Dishes who?"_

_"Dishes a REALLY bad joke."_

_Gaster snorted before he could stop himself; he could FEEL Sans's grin through the door.  "Come in, Sans," he said, trying to wipe the smile from his face.  Sans walked in, indeed grinning like a loon._

_"Hehehe, you're smiling."_

_"Yes, I am, and I hate you for it."  Gaster ground out his cigarette, sitting up.  "What are you still doing here, you should have gone home by now."  Sans shrugged, sitting himself up on the edge of Gaster's desk._

_"Yeah, but I got caught up in th' physics and just couldn't put it away," he replied.  "An' what about you, Doc?  I don't want you goin' three days on coffee again."_

_Gaster gave him a smile.  "I won't, I promise," he said.  "...but I can't find the will to go home NOW."  He glanced around his office.  "...perhaps I should invest in a seat or something..."_

_"Certainly would be more comfortable than the desk, I tell ya..."  Sans snickered at the dark purple that stained Gaster's cheekbones.  "Ease up there, Doc, I'm just messin' with ya."  He reached out and poked Gaster's forehead.  "BUT, you know more than I do that if ya stay here unchecked, you'll just quantum theory yourself into a walkin' coma.  So.  I brought a solution!"  He held up a large bottle of liquor he pulled apparently out of nowhere._

_"....where were you even KEEPING that?" Gaster demanded as Sans uncorked it._

_"You have your secrets, I have mine," Sans replied, tipping the bottle back into his mouth before handing it to Gaster.  "Bottoms up."_

_Gaster gave him a blank look.  "You plan to have me DRINK myself to sleep?" he asked.  "You're out of your mind."  Sans snorted, setting the bottle down._

_"Well, **tibia** honest, this was Plan B," he replied before summoning a large clublike bone into his hand, giving Gaster an innocent look.  "Plan A was brainin' ya to sleep."  He burst out laughing at the expression on Gaster's face.  "I'm just messin' with ya, Wingdingus!"  He vanished the bone and picked the bottle back up, handing it to Gaster.  "Seriously, this cost half last week's paycheck at least don't let it go to waste."  
_

_Gaster sighed.  "You're insane," he muttered, taking the bottle and sipping it, grimacing.  "GODS, what IS this?"_

_"Fire vodka, hand-crafted by Flame Monsters themselves," Sans replied.  "I know a guy down on the East Side who got it for cheap."_

_"......we're drinking bootleg fire vodka."_

_"Damn right."_

_".....eh, what the hell."_

* * *

 

_Gaster tipped the bottle back all the way, letting out a pouty huff when not even a drop fell out.  "Ahh.....it's gone...." he muttered, dropping his hand and leaning back against his desk.  Sans snickered, grinning up at Gaster, his head on the taller Skeleton's lap._

_"Awww...yer...yer drunk," Sans said, poking at Gaster's sternum.  Gaster batted at Sans's hands._

_"Shuddup, I am not!"_

_"What, little rich boy never got drunk before?"  Sans laughed harder.  "They didn't teach ya how ta drink in finishin' school?"_

_"I didn't go to finishing school!  And I'm NOT a 'little rich boy'!"_

_Sans snorted loudly.  "Puh-leeze, yer drunk an' yer stupid North Capitol accent is strong as ever!  If that don't scream 'little rich boy', I dunno what DOES!"  He sat up, grinning.  "Hey, rich boy, they ever teach ya th' GOOD life skills at finishin' school?"  Gaster rolled his eyelights._

_"For the last TIME, it wasn't finishing school...!" he retorted.  "And what sort of 'life skills'?"  Sans grinned, leaning in and pressing their teeth together, purring loudly as he pressed Gaster further back against the desk._

_"Th' kind that REALLY matter," he replied, his grin almost lecherous, looking over Gaster's purple-flushed cheekbones.  "...ah, shit, yer not a virgin, are ya?"_

_Gaster let out an indignant yelp, sitting upright.  "I am NOT!" he shot back.  "Honestly, you're so crass!"_

_"Hmph.  Tightass."_

_"Plebe!"_

_"Money-boy."_

_"Pervert!"_

_"Oh, that's **rich** , comin' from th' sheltered virgin--"  Sans was cut off, suddenly on his back and staring up at Gaster, whose expression went predatory.  Gaster's eyelights glimmered, his grin widening as he splayed a hand next to Sans's head, a purple ectoplasmic tongue slithering from between his teeth._

_"Well, Sans..." he purred, "I **AM** 'rich'.  But allow me to demonstrate how much of a virgin I am NOT."_

_"Oh gods please do."_

 


	8. Chapter 8

Papyrus, it seemed, was hellbent on getting Gaster to go out with Grillby, and quite frankly, it was driving Gaster and Sans—and Grillby, to an extent—absolutely insane.

_“Oh, you should wear THIS outfit next time you see him, he'll love it!”_

_“I heard he REALLY enjoys jazz music—you like jazz too, don't you, Mister Gaster?”_

_“There's a FANTASTIC restaurant downtown that I just KNOW you two will enjoy!”_

And other things to that extent. It was getting to the point where even Sans wasn't finding it all that funny anymore. He was taking every opportunity to try to dissuade Papyrus from this insane endeavor, but Papyrus was having none of it. “You get out plenty, Sans!” Papyrus had said as he tidied up the kitchen. “Let our guest have a social life too!”

“Pushin' him into a date with Grillby isn't a 'social life',” Sans muttered, “it's matchmakin'.” Papyrus sighed, folding up a dishtowel.

“I am simply looking out for his interests,” he said, his tone bordering on testy. “And honestly, Sans, why are you slurring your words? Your diction is getting sloppier every day! You would think two scientists would have cleaner wording.”

Sans's shoulders hunched a little, his cheekbones dusting with blue; he'd been using the South Capitol dialect for so long he hadn't even noticed when his Eastern accent kicked in. “...still, don't you think that's somethin' for him and Grillby to work out?”

“Well, they won't know if they don't try,” Papyrus huffed. “I'm sure they'll get along perfectly fine.” His expression went sharp, frowning. “...unless there's a REASON you don't think they shouldn't go out.”

Sans's cheekbones turned darker blue, his eyelights shifting away. “...no,” he replied. “There's no reason at all, Paps.”

Papyrus's expression lightened. “Good, then I'm sure YOU can convince Mr. Gaster to give Grillby a call!” he said, then papped Sans on the head. “Well, I need to go get ready for my sleepover with Undyne and Alphys! Undyne has the director's cut of that movie that just came out!” He beamed, hurrying upstairs to get his overnight bag and leaving Sans in the kitchen.

Sans sighed, rubbing his face before walking out of the kitchen, pausing when he saw Gaster sitting at the table, hands wringing tightly as though pained, and it occurred to him that he must have heard him and Papyrus. He struggled for a moment for something to say, but didn't figure out WHAT before Gaster stood up and quietly walked upstairs, shutting Sans's bedroom door behind him.

Sans let out a frustrated groan, sitting down hard and burying his face in his hands and wondering just how ELSE he can screw up the day.

* * *

 

Dinner was pretty solemn and quiet, but—Gaster was somewhat loathe to admit, circumstances considering—the company was nice. He was still surprised that Grillby took him up on his request to have dinner, if anything just to get Papyrus off of both their backs about it. The restaurant WAS nice, the atmosphere quiet and peaceful, and dimly lit in such a way that the soft glow Grillby emitted enhanced the ambiance instead of overwhelming it.

The two men sat quietly across from each other with their respective drinks—wine for Gaster and scotch for Grillby; anything except water was fine for the Flame Monster—and scarcely commented on anything more than the exchanged 'you look wells' for the longest time before Grillby broke the silence. “So,” he said, sipping his scotch, “what made you call me?”

Gaster sat back, sighing softly. “...mostly, to get Papyrus off my back about it,” he replied. “If I had to hear about one more outfit he thought I'd look 'dashing' in, I was going to go crazy.”

“'Mostly'?” Grillby asked, arching a fiery brow. He saw Gaster's cheekbones darken slightly as the Skeleton traced a phalange over the rim of his wine glass.

“...there.......was a slight reasoning concerning Sans,” he admitted, his eyelights downcast. “...I overheard him trying to talk Papyrus out of all this, and Papyrus asked him if there was a REASON....and Sans said no.”

“Ahh,” Grillby said, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. “So you thought this 'date' would stick in his craw, right?” His mouth twitched at Gaster's deepening blush. “It's alright, Doctor, I understand.”

Gaster looked up, surprised. “...you do?” he asked. Grillby nodded.

“It's obvious that you still harbor deep feelings for Sans,” he replied. “And...that it would hurt that he wouldn't admit that there was even the slightest reason, if just to spare himself an awkward conversation with Papyrus.” He picked his scotch glass up, taking a sip. “He never did like making things difficult when it came to Papyrus. I'm ninety-three percent sure he hasn't even given him the sex talk yet.”

Gaster rubbed his face, sighing. “...gods, Sans has spoiled him,” he muttered before raising his head. “...I'm sorry I dragged you into this, Grillby.”

Grillby waved a hand carelessly. “I've been in the middle of more than one shenanigan concerning those two,” he replied. “Both good...and bad. But it seems to me that you would be much better off talking to SANS about this.”

Gaster wrung his hands tightly, a dull sound of bone scraping against bone sifting over the table. “I don't know if he would even WANT that,” he said. “I want more than ANYTHING to be with him, Grillby. Even all those years in the Void...I never stopped loving him...never stopped wanting to BE with him...and I know that if WE became comfortable with each other again...explaining things to Papyrus would come all the more easily. I just...don't know HOW...”

The Flame Monster was silent for a moment before shrugging. “I'll be honest. Go for broke. Just TELL him. Worst that can happen is he says no, but that just means you can still be friends. But...” He reached over, resting a hand over both of Gaster's clenched ones. “...Sans has been lonely for a very long time...and I think he wants companionship just as badly as you do. And I don't think he'll outright reject the possibility. Just tell him, Doctor.”

Gaster smiled, turning one of his hands up and squeezing Grillby's. “You're a good friend, Grillby,” he replied. “Sans was so lucky to have you in his life when I couldn't be there. Thank you.”

Grillby smiled back. “I've got the check,” he said. “Go home, Doctor. Good or bad, you know where to find me if you want to talk tomorrow.” He sat back as Gaster beamed, stood up, drained his wine glass, and hurried out of the restaurant.

…...and he hoped he hadn't somehow made things worse.

* * *

 

Sans rubbed his eyes as he stared at the page of a book he had attempted to read for ten minutes but couldn't focus past the first paragraph. He just couldn't believe that Gaster had ACTUALLY gone on the date with Grillby.

No, scratch that. He COULD believe it. He knew Gaster heard what he and Papyrus were talking about, and he had seen the hurt on the other Skeleton's face. If it had been HIM, he'd have gone out with someone too. Probably toss back a drink. Or six. Maybe even gone home with his date and—

NO. No, Gaster was NOT the kind of Monster who would jump into bed with someone on the first date. He wouldn't.

…...............buuuuuuut, Gaster WAS a pretty horny drunk.

FU—

“Sans?”

Sans's book nearly went airborne when he heard Gaster at his door, sitting up straight and putting it down, fighting down a blush. “Oh...hey, Wingdings...” His eyelights flicked to the side, feeling it too awkward to make eyelight contact. “...how...was your date?”

Gaster stood in the door frame for a moment, wringing his hands before stepping inside. “...it was...fine,” he replied. “Grillby is kind, informative, a good conversationalist...and, admittedly, not terrible to look at.” He saw Sans's cheekbones turn blue and hands clench slightly in his lap.

“That's...nice,” Sans replied. “I'm glad you enjoy his company so much. Any plans for a second date?” Gaster's silence made him look up, seeing the other Skeleton's hands wringing tight enough to almost scrape bone, almost visibly sweating. “...Wingdings?”

“I can't take this anymore!” Gaster burst out, reaching out and grabbing Sans's shoulders, jerking him up and kissing him hard. Sans's eyelights constricted to pinpricks, his hands fumbling to hold onto SOMETHING. Gaster leaned back, his face purple and soul pulsing in his rib cage. “Sans, I love you,” he said breathlessly, his voice shaking. “I never stopped loving you. I don't want ANYONE else but you! I don't want to go on another date unless it's you! I—“ He yelped when Sans jerked back, but brought him down with him, lettng go of Sans to catch himself and brace up on the mattress.

“Shut up an' kiss me y' son of a bitch,” Sans hissed before pulling Gaster down for another kiss, scraping his teeth over Gaster's jaw. “I've waited twenty-four goddamn years, don't you DARE talk that shit an' then disappoint me!”

Gaster growled, kissing Sans again, forming a tongue and curling it around Sans's, feeling the smaller Skeleton grab his shirt and jerk it open, buttons going flying haphazardly without a care in the world. Fumbling hands tore and shifted clothing away, the upstairs quickly filling with the sounds of sloppy kisses, moaning, and tribute to deities for MORE PLEASE MORE, with the gratitude that they were alone for this.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_Papyrus stood in the hallway just outside of Sans's bedroom door, his expression blank as he listened to his brother moaning and Wingdings Gaster's heavy breathing, the mix of their combined scents and musk creating a nauseating aroma that Papyrus wanted to bleach out of his home and out of his LIFE._

_He had been ECSTATIC when he had heard Gaster was going on the date with Grillby, and went to the sleepover at Undyne's with glee, figuring this was just the thing that was needed get Gaster out of the house._

_But he had seen how sad Sans was, and it niggled at his mind for the duration of the fun he was having, and waited until Undyne and Alphys were dozing after the movie before heading home, fully intending on being there for Sans to comfort him._

_Only to come home to THIS._

_To the smell of Snowdin and ketchup being tainted by Hotlands and sterile labs._

_To Gaster DEFILING HIS BROTHER._

_Papyrus didn't think he could actively DESPISE someone as much as he did Wingdings Gaster. Grillby was just an annoying distraction in the past but THIS._

_THIS. Was SICK._

_Papyrus's hands clenched tightly as he heard his brother shout Gaster's name, feeling a strong pulse of magic to accompany it before the two Skeletons in Sans's room went quiet, only the sound of ragged breathing coming through now._

_And then soft kissing._

_Rustling sheets._

_“...I love you, Sans.”_

_“I love ya too, Wingdings.”_

_Papyrus felt tears run down his cheekbones, his jaw clenching tightly enough to almost crack a tooth as he took a shortcut out of his house—HIS OWN HOUSE—and collapsed on the ground, burying his face in his hands._

_Sans loved Wingdings._

_Sans would want to be with Wingdings._

_Sans would want to be with ONLY Wingdings._

_Sans would leave him._

_Sans would LEAVE HIM._

_HE WAS GOING TO BE ALONE._

_…........................_

_…........................_

_…......................_

_….....no._

_HE WAS NOT GOING TO LET THAT HAPPEN._

_No matter WHAT he had to do._

 


	9. Chapter 9

Gaster had to admit that meeting with humans in the scientific department was nerve wracking, but as soon as he began speaking about his work, he snapped right back into his element so fast it was like he had never left it twenty-four years ago.

His presentation of choice to get an equivocal degree on the Surface was his magnum opus, the Core. He showed them all his findings, engineering, and diagrams showing how he found the energy output the magma in the center of Mount Ebott, and designed and built a functional energy conversion unit out of JUNK that powered the Underground and was STILL powering it for those who still chose to remain. It was nature-created energy, it was clean, and since it was converting instead of unearthing, it was FREE.

The scientists were enthralled by his qualifications to begin with, but they were practically SALIVATING over the Core and what it could mean for free energy up on the surface. The head of the committee interviewing Gaster said that if this thing of beauty could be made out of junk and spare parts and STILL be functioning, he could only IMAGINE what they could do with the same concept and modern technology. It would even create jobs with building and maintaining future Cores for Monsters around the world, if it ever came to that point.

“The rest of your qualifications were impressive enough,” the scientists said, looking over several more of Gaster's notes and journals. “Dr. Alphys spoke very highly of you, saying you were a hundred times the scientist she is...and she is VERY renowned and respected here as it is.” He folded his hands, looking Gaster in the eyelight, something Gaster appreciated about these scientists. They didn't shy from Monsters, but rather were some of the most eager to integrate the two races for the sheer pursuit of their combined science expertise. “Now, I have to ask...there is...almost a three-decade gap between your work here, and your application into the degree program. Might I ask why?”

Gaster's fingers drummed on the table softly as he gathered his thoughts. “...it's...a very personal matter,” he replied quietly. “As with many scientists under pressure...I became too engrossed in my research, disconnected with the world around me, and...I admittedly had a nervous breakdown.” His eyelights slid to focus on the blank wall to the side. “...the result put me in a bad place for a very long time...and during that time, I could see the world moving around me and being unable to do anything about it. When the Barrier broke...I found myself renewed, but much like a whole brand-new Monster. I spent time relearning even the most basic of things, like how to take care of myself and gain back control of my magic. And now I've moved up here...I am living with an old...colleague of mine...and I am more than ready to reenter my fields of interest.”

He paused, rubbing a phalange over his knuckles thoughtfully. “I was born to a family who valued wealth and social status over everything else, and from a young age I knew I was intellectually gifted. I wanted to help people....and I still do. I truly believe I can do good being back in the labs than anywhere else.”

The scientist smiled. “Well, I can find no reason why you shouldn't continue to pursue your passions, Dr. Gaster,” he said. “Dr. Alphys's word alone was enough for me, but I wanted to see just whom I was going to be working with. I don't think it will take any effort to have your degrees transferred up.”

Gaster nearly collapsed on the floor from relief and joy, managing to stand when the scientist did and shook the man's hand with all the gratitude he could muster. “Thank you,” he managed, his eye sockets brimming slightly with tears. “Just...thank you, so much!”

“Of course!” the man replied. “But there is no need to thank me. Save that for after I get your grant applications.” The two shared a laugh before Gaster signed over some paperwork and was dismissed.

The Skeleton was practically dancing on Cloud Nine, loving every aspect of his life right now. He had a new budding relationship with Sans, a fresh start to his career as a scientist, and—oh, look at that, he managed to take the bus back to the village alone without having an anxiety attack. Everything was just aces today!

“Sans!” he called, hurrying into the house, hearing rummaging in the kitchen. “Sans, I did it! I'm getting my degrees transferred, and I'm going to begin working at the labs, isn't that—“ He cut off short when he saw that in the kitchen was not Sans, but Papyrus.

The younger Skeleton was staring at Gaster with an unreadable expression as he finished putting together a salad and sandwich, the mood dropping like a five-ton weight and the discomfort permeating between them so thick that Gaster swore he could TASTE it. He instinctively fidgeted with his hands, inclining his head to Papyrus. “...oh, hello, Papyrus,” he said quietly. “I didn't know you were home so early.”

Papyrus dipped the knife he was holding into mustard, slathering it onto a piece of bread. “It is my day off,” he replied. “And Sans was called into work to help a family relocate to the lake shores. He won't be back until late this evening.”

Gaster nodded, feeling his earlier excitement deflate at the thought of having to wait for Sans to come home to share the news. He had hoped they could go out and celebrate, or—

“However, I must offer my congratulations!” Papyrus spoke up, his tone lifting to something more lighthearted and snapping Gaster out of his morose funk. The younger Skeleton gave Gaster a smile before turning back to his sandwich. “I suppose I really MUST call you Doctor now. But I recall how excited Alphys was when she got her degree transfers. It must be exciting for you.”

Gaster nodded slowly, slightly edged from the quick shift in tone. “It is,” he replied. “I have not been in my element for...a very long time. It will feel good to have this back in my life again.”

Papyrus quietly put the sandwich together and cut it into triangles. “I can imagine how much work it will be for you,” he said. “I do hope you're up to the challenge.”

“Of course I am!” Gaster huffed, mostly out of pride for his own work ethic than annoyance. “I wasn't Royal Scientist for no reason, you know. I had SEVERAL degrees before I was your age, and it was from hard work and dedication.”

“I can understand THAT at least,” Papyrus replied, his tone surprisingly genuine. “Sans simply does not understand that. I would have been in the Royal Guard, had the Barrier not been broken, and there is no real need for it up here.” There was a soft underlying bitterness that Gaster couldn't help but feel bad for, and the older Skeleton took a tentative step closer.

“Well...there is no reason why you cannot find something new to dedicate yourself to,” he replied quietly. “You appear to be a Skeleton of many talents...and Sans has told me about your proficiency with puzzle creations and fixing anything in the house...you must be quite good at engineering.”

Papyrus gave him a one-shoulder shrug. “I suppose. But just because I am good at something does not mean I wish to dedicate myself to it. The Royal Guard was where I would have my niche, my glory, and every ounce of dedication in my soul. And now it is gone.”

Gaster's hands twitched outward, as though wanting to reach out and comfort Papyrus before his nerve stopped him. “...I am sorry for that,” he said. “...I...truly can understand something being within your reach but you being unable to touch it. It's...soul-crushing. And not much you can tell yourself helps any” Pause. “But...whatever you decide to do, know that Sans...and I...will support you. Everyone will.”

Papyrus's shoulders tensed for a moment before relaxing, giving Gaster a smile as he picked up his sandwich plate. “Thank you,” he replied. “That is...very kind of you.”

Gaster nodded, his hands wringing again. “...Listen,” he said with a sigh,” I know that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here...I barged into your life without notice and...may have disrupted your standing in all this. But I don't want there to be any bad blood between us, Papyrus. I want us to be...friends. I'd like to get to know you better...and I'd like you to get to know me.”

There was a moment of silence between them before Papyrus gave Gaster another smile, this one more open and excited. “I would like that too, Doctor,” he said. “How about dinner tonight, my treat?”

Gaster paused before smiling, feeling ALMOST as giddy as him getting his degree transfers earlier. “I...I would love that, Papyrus!” he replied enthusiastically. “Truly, I would, thank you!”

“Great! It's a date!” Papyrus beamed, heading to his room with the sandwich and passing by Gaster, who suddenly felt as though his spine turned to ice.

“...wha...oh, wait, Papyr—“ The sound of the door shutting cut him off, and his anxiety skyrocketed to near-critical levels.

Oh. Oh noooooooooo.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

_“I am so happy I talked you into gettin' a seat in here,” Sans mumbled, stealing the cigarette out from between Gaster's teeth and taking a drag, exhaling heavily as he stretched out next to Gaster. The motion was much easier for him than it was for his taller lover, who still had to bend his long legs slightly to accommodate his height._

_Gaster didn't mind the slightly cramped positioning; basking in the afterglow with Sans with only their lab coats covering them was more than compensating for the slight discomfort. He turned his head and pressed his teeth to Sans's, grinning when the smaller Skeleton exhaled the smoke into his mouth. “I'm glad you talked me into it too,” he replied, nuzzling Sans's face._

_Sans nuzzled him back before polishing off the cigarette and turning to press his rib cage against Gaster's, his soul fluttering tangibly through his ribs. “Screw goin' home tonight,” he purred, his eyelights gleaming blue. “I can pull an 'all nighter' if ya catch my drift...” He pressed small kisses into Gaster's skull, feeling the larger Skeleton shudder underneath him._

_“...I don't think I can tonight,” Gaster replied, his hands resting softly on Sans's pelvis. “I have...family business I have to take care of.” His tone grew bitter, as it often did when referring to his own family. Sans sighed, folding his arms on Gaster's sternum and relaxing on him like a cat beast._

_“Wingdings...ya gotta just tell 'em to fuck off sometimes,” he said. “Yer a grown-ass man, th' Head Royal Scientist...what th' fuck else do they WANT from ya?”_

_Gaster rubbed his nasal bone as though pained. “...too much, I think,” he replied, dropping his hand back on the seat. “...Father wants me to take over Lordship of the Gasters.”_

_Sans sat up straight, staring down at him. “...what?” he asked. “You're...not gonna do that, are ya?” Silence. “...Wingdings?”_

_Gaster slumped back, frowning. “It's more complicated than that, Sans,” he said, trailing off when Sans gave him a glare._

_“Th' hell it is!” Sans scoffed. “Y'think Lordships an' shit matters for ANYTHING down here? I DOESN'T. Family names an' class status didn't matter for SHIT when th' humans came after us, an' there's too few of us left for it to matter even MORE.” His expression softened, looking almost sad. “...you said it yourself, Doc....we're all Skeletons, an' class doesn't matter. You don't need to think about it. It's already obvious.”_

_Gaster rubbed his face, and then smiled softly. “...you're right,” he said, as though saying it to himself. “You...really are right, Sans.” He reached up, pulling Sans back down flush to him, kissing him softly. “...Gasters...Serifs...who even cares about names? You're every bit as smart and magically gifted as I am.”_

_Sans snorted, nuzzling Gaster's face. “Let's face it, I'm th' smart one,” he joked. “Otherwise, you'd have already figured that out instead of worryin' about it.” He kissed Gaster again before sitting up, stretching. “...you SHOULD go home...but to rest up, an' let yer old man know what's REALLY up.”_

_Gaster sat up too, watching Sans dress before reaching out and hugging him from behind, pressing his face to Sans's scapula. “...thank you, Sans,” he murmured. “You really are the smart one.”_

_“An' don't ya forget it,” Sans replied, clasping his hands around Gaster's._

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked these two out back-to-back so you get a happy-special bonus chapter early. Enjoy.
> 
> Also, everyone's comments about the passive-aggressive sandwich-making had me in stitches! XD I'm glad you all liked it!

Sans didn't seem too worried about the state of things when Gaster called him up about it; in fact, he seemed to find it FUNNY. “Wingdings, Papyrus hardly knows what a date IS,” he said, and Gaster could HEAR the grin through the phone. “Hell, he took FRISK on a 'date' back in the Underground, an' it was the funniest thing you ever saw. Trust me, ten minutes in, an' he'll declare his feelings as purely platonic.”

Gaster groaned, rubbing his face with his free hand. “It was just so...EMBARRASSING!” he droned out. “Embarrassing and WRONG....!”

“Wingdings...” Sans's voice dipped into more seriousness. “...look, think of it as a GOOD thing, huh? He's reachin' out an' wantin' to get to know ya. It's the start of a friendship, an' that's what you wanted, right?”

Gaster sighed, lying back on the bed. “And you're SURE you can't get home earlier to run as a buffer?” he asked, his smile twitching when he heard Sans's snorting through the phone. “Alright, Sans, alright. I'll declare it purely platonic myself if it comes to that...but if you CAN come home early—“

“Wingdings, go on th' damn 'date' an' get to know Papyrus,” Sans said. “It'll be good for you BOTH, I know it.” There was muffled talking on the other end. “I gotta go now. Tell me all about it when I get home, alright?”

“Alright. ...I love you, Sans.”

“Love ya too, Wingdingus. Bye.”

_Click_

Gaster stared up at the ceiling, feeling the world turn on its end as he found himself wondering what to wear on this 'date'.

* * *

 

It turned out to be a surprisingly nice but casual bistro they went to, with Papyrus INSISTING on paying. Considering it was the SECOND date Gaster had been on where he didn't at least go halfsies on, he in turn insisted that he pay Papyrus back once he began earning his own money.

“Please, I insist!” Gaster said, smiling over the table at Papyrus. “A Skeleton always pays their debts.”

“A fine sentiment, if not inaccurate,” Papyrus replied. “I've seen Sans's bill from Grillby's, and it's more than I used to make in a month.” His expression held a curtain of distaste at the mention of the Flame Monster before it lightened again. “How WAS your date with Grillby, by the way? You got along well, I hope.”

Gaster fidgeted in his seat, his cheekbones tinging purple. “It was...very nice,” he replied. “Grillby is a very fine Monster...polite, respectable, helpful...” He gave Papyrus a smile. “...it was good of you to encourage the date...but I think we are much better off as friends.”

It may have been the dim light of the place, but he swore Papyrus's smile went cold. “Oh, are you certain?” Papyrus asked. “I would have thought you two would be a PERFECT match.”

Gaster let out a nervous laugh, picking up his wine glass and sipping it quietly. “...perhaps...in another time, we could be,” he admitted. He flicked his eyelights to Papyrus, who was leaning his jaw on his hands as he gave Gaster an almost devious smile.

“Oh, I see,” Papyrus practically purred. “I'm guessing you just prefer the company of other Skeletons, am I right?”

Gaster nearly choked on his wine, his cheekbones going purple. “Er...it's...a matter of personal preference, yes...” he murmured, dabbing at his jaw with his napkin. “It's...very natural that Monsters of the same species gravitate toward each other.”

Papyrus shrugged a little, giving him a thoughtful look. “That's true,” he said. “I suppose it IS natural that two Monsters of the same species would rather be together.” He smiled, sitting back. “I could use some more dessert...would you like another glass of wine?”

“Oh, no, I couldn't, it's quite expensive here—“

“Not at all! It's YOUR congratulatory dinner, after all!” He enthusiastically summoned the waiter to put in their orders, chatting aimlessly with Gaster over some subject or the other as he ate through three slices of cheesecake and Gaster had two more glasses of wine before they both declared it time to go.

Gaster's anxiety seemed to loosen its eternal grip as he rode back home with Papyrus, happily chatting on about everything he wanted to accomplish now that he had modern technology at his disposal. Papyrus was attentively silent for the time, parking his car and walking inside with Gaster, the older Skeleton leaning against him, still more than a little tipsy.

“—and just IMAGINE it, Papyrus! The entire PLANET running off of DOZENS of Cores! Convertible power, cheap if not FREE, for EVERYONE!” He began gesturing wildly with his hands as he spoke. “Oh, that is the dream to end ALL dreams for me!”

“It's a lovely dream, Doctor,” Papyrus said, sitting down on the couch with Gaster. “And it sounds to me that you are more than intelligent and ambitious enough to pull it off.”

Gaster leaned back on the couch, sighing softly. “You're so very kind, Papyrus,” he said, patting Papyrus's shoulder. “I'm so glad you turned out so well.” Papyrus chuckled.

“I can be kind,” he said, his voice dipping in tone. “Very...VERY kind.” Gaster blinked at the tone, trying to wrap his buzzed mind around it to wonder what it MEANT when he became aware of a hand resting on his femur. His eyelights flickered down, seeing Papyrus's hand settled mid-femur and slowly inching upward.

Alarms blared in his mind as his own hand snapped down to grab Papyrus's wrist, his anxiety skyrocketing back up full-blast as he sat up straight, the color draining from his skull. “Papyrus, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly, then froze when Papyrus's free hand reached up and brushed against his cheekbone.

“It IS pretty obvious,” Papyrus replied. “And you said so yourself...don't Skeletons generally prefer the company of other Skeletons?”

Gaster's mind thrashed to and fro, trying to find some sense between the three glasses of wine he drank and his panic rising to critical levels, his hand shaking as it held Papyrus's wrist. “Papyrus, I don't...it's not you, it's—“ His eyelights constricted into pinpricks when Papyrus leaned forward and pressed their teeth together, and .4 seconds later Gaster teleported out of the living room and reappeared in Hotlands back Underground by reflex.

His whole body shook as he dropped to his knees, one hand rubbing at his mouth as the other fumbled for his phone, barely able to remember the speed-dial buttons but managing to press it anyway.

_“Hey, Doc, what's up?”_

Hitched, heaving breaths answered, like he was having trouble breathing through violent nausea.

_“...Wingdings? Wingdings, what is it?”_

“...I....I'm...in H-Hotlands, Sans...I need......I need help getting out.”

 _“Whoa, whoa, HOTLANDS? Wingdings, what're ya doin' there? Weren't you with Papyrus—“_ He broke off at the sound of definite vomiting. _“Wingdings, hold on, I'll be right there!”_

Sans appeared not thirty seconds later, catching sight of Gaster and running up, dropping down and holding the shaking Skeleton to him tightly. “Hell, Wingdings, what on earth HAPPENED?” he demanded, petting Gaster's skull comfortingly. Gaster clung to him tightly, staying silent for several long minutes before looking up, panic and nausea permeating his features.

“...Sans...something.......something happened...”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_“Y'know, I'd REALLY like you to come to th' East Capitol,” Sans said as he kicked back on Gaster's seat, giving Gaster a grin. “I know that Ma an' Pops would like t' meet ya.”_

_Gaster's cheekbones turned purple, his hands fidgeting slightly. “...it's...a very nice thing to say, Sans,” he replied. “...but...it may not be the best of ideas...at least...not now.” He busied himself with tidying his desk so as not to look at Sans's disappointment and frustrated expression._

_“...is this STILL about th' goddamn class system?” Sans demanded, sitting up and staring at Gaster. “Wingdings, I don't give a flyin' FUCK about that, you KNOW that!”_

_“I DO know that, Sans!” Gaster replied, sitting down and rubbing his nasal bone. “...it's...complicated. Class system be damned, it's...you just KNOW how it is.”_

_Sans was silent for a few moments. “...it's me an' my family, isn't it?” Sans said almost darkly. “Serifs aren't really th' level th' Gasters are on, so—“_

_“NO, SANS!” Gaster snapped, giving Sans a glower. “I've made it CLEAR that I don't CARE about social status or ANYTHING of that nature! It's NOT your family's class OR where they live!” He let out a heavy sigh, burying his face in his hands. “...it's...it's so much MORE than that, Sans...”_

_Sans frowned, his hands unclenching before he stood up and walked over to Gaster, curling his arms around the taller Skeleton's shoulders. “...I'm sorry, 'Dings,” he murmured, nuzzling Gaster's skull. “I didn't mean t' bring that up an' throw yer own name in yer face.” Gaster leaned against Sans, reaching up and clasping his hand around Sans's._

_“It's alright...and very understandable,” Gaster replied. “I haven't...really given you much of a reason to believe it's NOT because of that.” He sighed. “...There's...a lot more going on in my family than you know, Sans...things I'm not READY to talk about...”_

_“I know y' keep sayin' that, Wingdings, but you CAN tell me.” Sans rubbed Gaster's skull, smiling softly. “If...we're gonna make this work outside this office, ya gotta tell me things so I can HELP you deal with 'em instead of just givin' out my two gold pieces about it.” He pressed small kisses over Gaster's skull, smiling when the taller Skeleton began relaxing. “...I'm not sayin' move in or nothin'...just come over for dinner, or even just t' say hi. Ma KNOWS there's a Skeleton in my life, an' she's been 'ribbin'' me t' bring 'em over.”_

_Gaster snorted, squeezing Sans's hand tightly. “I'll...think about it,” he said. “Really, I will. Your family sounds lovely, Sans....and I'm sure I'll be honored to meet them.”_

_Sans beamed, kissing Gaster's cheekbone. “Ya, couple things. Ma's HUGE on hugs, Pops will wanna test yer grit with blue magic, so watch out for that, an' my brother an' sisters like t' climb on anything taller than I am so don't wear any of those fancy-shmancy Lordship clothes.”_

_Gaster snorted, rolling his eyelights. “I'll keep my silk garments at home then,” he replied, reaching up and pulling Sans down, kissing him hard. Sans kissed him back, making a move to slide into Gaster's lap when there was a sharp knock at the office door. “Oh, what NOW...?”_

_He stood up, walking over to the door and Sans could SEE a change in persona when at the door was a simply but smartly-dressed Skeleton waiting. “O...oh...Consolas...” he said, his back straightening and shoulders squaring. “Why have you come to my labs?”_

_“Because you were not at home, Lord Wingdings,” Consolas replied crisply. “And Maid Marcelle has waited long enough.”_

_Gaster's eyelights constricted. “Oh my, is it Thursday ALREADY...?” he exclaimed. Consolas nodded, turning and gathering something before handing it over to Gaster._

_“I did not feel comfortable staying with the servants,” Consolas said. “This seemed to be the best choice, as I must return to my Maid.”_

_“O...of course,” Gaster replied. “Thank you, Consolas, and I apologize for your inconvenience.”_

_Consolas nodded, saying nothing as he turned on heel and left. Gaster stood at the door, and Sans saw his back slump and stiffen at the same time. “...Wingdings?” he said, frowning. “What was that?” Gaster remained silent. “Wingdings. What WAS that?”_

_Gaster let out a heavy sigh, slowly backing up and turning around, almost trembling as he faced Sans, a small bundle in his arms squirming quietly. Sans's eyelights honed in on that bundle, seeing a tiny skeletal hand poking out and prodding at Gaster's lab coat._

_“...Sans....this is Papyrus...my son.”_

 


	11. Chapter 11

Sans sat back with Gaster for what seemed like hours, keeping a comforting hand on the taller Skeleton's back while the other was tightly clasped between Gaster's hands. Slowly but surely, Gaster was calming down, leaning against Sans as he relaxed, his hands squeezing Sans's own every now and then as though to remind himself of where he was and who he was with.

After a good while, he let out a deep, shaky breath and lifted a hand to rub his face. “...this is...just a disaster...” he murmured. “Just....a disaster...” Sans rubbed his back, petting lightly.

“...we...should probably tell him,” he began delicately, only to feel Gaster flinch in his hold.

“No,” Gaster replied firmly. “No, it's...we can't....not......yet.”

“Wingdings—“

“SANS.” Gaster sat up, looking Sans in the eyelights. “...Sans....Papyrus doesn't even remember me. He is twenty-six years old, and I cannot in good faith uproot his entire life by telling him that I'm a father he's never really met and you're not his real brother!” He rubbed his face harder. “No...no no no no, I can't do that, I can't....”

“Shhh, okay...” Sans said, petting Gaster's head again. “Okay, Wingdings...” He kissed Gaster's head lightly. “...I get it too. I wouldn't wanna do that to him either.” He curled his arms around Gaster, holding him tightly. “...it's just a little messed up right now.”

“...A little? Sans, my own son put MOVES on me!” He looked ill all over again thinking about it. “He touched me and then he—“

“Shh, 'Dings, shh,” Sans comforted. “Look, he just got the wrong idea....and we...should've told him sooner about US. We can do THAT at least, alright? And we'll say you panicked because...I dunno, you thought you were cheating on me or somethin'. Okay?”

Gaster let out a shaky sigh, nodding. “...okay,” he murmured quietly. “...okay...”

Sans kissed his cheekbone again before scooping him up and shortcutting to his bedroom, settling Gaster down in the sheets. “I'll talk to Papyrus, okay?” he said, petting Gaster's skull. “You just get some rest.” Gaster snuggled deep into the sheets, tugging them around his body in his protective cocoon as Sans walked out of his room and shut the door, walking to Papyrus's room and knocking softly.

“Hey, Paps?” he called softly. “You in there, bro?” There was silence before sounds of footsteps approaching and the door cracking open.

“Oh, hello Sans,” Papyrus said, sounding a little put out. “Did you need anything?”

Sans shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his hands flexing slightly. “Yeah,” he said. “We...need to talk. Can I come in?” Papyrus nodded and stepped aside, letting Sans into his room. Sans walked in and sat down on Papyrus's desk chair. “...so...I heard things got a little...out of hand earlier.”

Papyrus sat down on his bed, his hands wringing slightly, something Sans didn't fail to notice. “...I am not sure what went wrong,” Papyrus said quietly. “I thought...we were having a good time...”

Sans sighed, rubbing his eye sockets. “...maybe you were, Paps, but not in the way y'THINK.” He paused, weighing his words before speaking again. “...Papyrus...Wingdings panicked because...he...he's already involved with someone...romantically.” His cheekbones turned blue. “...the truth is...me an' HIM are...together....and he thought it was just a get-to-know-you dinner.”

Papyrus's expression was unreadable, eyelights dim and looking anywhere but at Sans. Sans saw Papyrus's hands tighten before relax. “...I...didn't know,” Papyrus replied softly. “I...honestly thought that...”

“It's not your fault, Paps....if anything, it's mine. I should've TOLD you about my relationship with Wingdings. I'm sorry for that.” He gave Papyrus a nervous smile. “But...he really DID want to get to know ya, Paps. He's...a little shaken up but he doesn't want this to ruin any kind of friendship you guys might have because he panicked.” He paused, standing and walking over to Papyrus and sitting down next to him. “...don't feel bad about this, Papyrus, please...it was a misunderstanding is all.”

Papyrus was silent for a long moment before nodding. “...alright, brother,” he said quietly. “...I will...have to find a way to apologize to him.” He gave Sans a small smile. “...but I think I will give him time to recover first...and to hone my apology properly.”

Sans grinned, patting Papyrus's shoulder. “You do that, bro,” he said, standing. “I'm gonna go get me some dinner, an' then we can watch some MTTV, alright?” He walked out of Papyrus's room, shutting the door behind him.

Papyrus watched Sans leave, his eyelights dimming back into nothingness as soon as his door was closed. This had NOT turned out as he had wanted it to. He was going to have to step up his game if he wanted this to work.

He took his time changing into his evening clothes, happy that at least he would have Sans's company to himself, if only for a short time.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_Sans stared slack-jawed at Gaster, his eyelights flickering to the tiny bundle in the taller Skeleton's arms every few seconds as though to confirm that he really WAS seeing what he thought he was seeing. It was. A small, bundled-up baby bones that was nestled in Gaster's arms...that Gaster had called his son._

_His SON._

_“...you...have a son...” Sans said slowly, trying to wrap his mind around it and let it sink in without dragging his sanity along with it. It wasn't really working. “You have a SON, Wingdings.”_

_Gaster nodded quietly. “...yes,” he said. “He is...just six months old...but yes, he is my son.” He winced when Sans began pacing the office. “Sans—“_

_“An' after that shit I said about keepin' things from each other...!” Sans griped, mostly to himself as he ran a hand over his skull. “I mean fuckin' GODS, Gaster, y'think this would've been somethin' ya could've mentioned AWHILE ago! A six-month-old SON! I mean—shit, Wingdings, next yer gonna tell me yer fuckin' MARRIED!”_

_The guilty silence that followed had the eyelights fading from Sans's eye sockets. “...Oh...oh fuck NO, you've gotta be fuckin' KIDDIN' ME, WINGDINGS—!”_

_“Sans, let me explain—“_

_“I gotta get outta here,” Sans muttered darkly, grabbing up his briefcase and lab coat. “I can't believe I've been fuckin' around with a goddamn married Monster—!”_

_“Sans, STOP! Please, just LET ME EXPLAIN—“_

_“EXPLAIN WHAT, WINGDINGS!?” Sans shouted, his voice hitting a hysterical pitch. “Explain to me how you NEVER told me you were married, NEVER told me ya had a SON, an' that I was just a back-office fuck in yer spare time because who th' shit would CARE if some low-class Skeleton was LORD FUCKIN' WINGDINGS GASTER'S WHORE—“_

_**“THAT'S ENOUGH!”** _

_The room was dead silent for a few seconds before the baby bones began to cry. Gaster's blazing eyelights dimmed as he hurriedly hugged Papyrus to him, shooshing him quietly until he began to calm down, giving Sans an almost helpless look. “...Sans...please...” he began again, his eye sockets wet with tears. “...let me explain, PLEASE.”_

_Sans's jaw was tight enough to hear his teeth grinding, flexing his hands rapidly before jerking out Gaster's desk chair and sitting down, crossing his arms. “Fine,” he said curtly. Gaster's shoulders slumped as he shakily sat down on the seat, petting his son's head._

_“...my wife and I have been separated for months,” he began softly. “...neither of us wanted the marriage to begin with...it was arranged when we were young, and we had little choice to go through with it. Marcelle...is very much an adventurous socialite. She has a harem of lovers of her own and it was only after mere TALK of me ascending to Lordship began that...we wanted to TRY to make it work. We thought having a child would do that...we were wrong.”_

_He looked down at the baby bones, his eyelights going soft. “...the ONE thing we have in common is that although we don't want each other, we both want Papyrus. We have split custody over him until he's old enough to decide whom he wishes to be with.” Gaster sighed, rubbing his face with one hand._

_“...this is the reason why I couldn't ever have you over...or that I could go over to your place...I'm not ashamed.......well.......I am NOW.....but.....” He rubbed his eye sockets, his cheekbones wetting from the tears he didn't catch. “...you wanted no more secrets....and that's all of them....but what I have with you is EVERYTHING to me, Sans! Please, believe me when I say that! You want me to tell my father to shove that Lordship, I will, if it means I can keep you in my life with what we have! I WANT you in my life, Sans!”_

_Sans remained silent for several long moments before letting out a heavy sigh and picking up his briefcase. “...I'm gonna need some time to think about this,” he said quietly. “It's not a yes, but it's not a no. I need time...an' I need space. I'll let ya know what's what by th' end of th' week.”_

_Gaster nodded, feeling as though he deserved even less than THAT, holding Papyrus to him tightly as Sans left his office. Only after the door closed did he finally allow himself to break down into sobs with only his son there to comfort him._

 


	12. Chapter 12

Gaster was scarce for the days leading up to his work in the labs, and he left as soon as he was able, wanting to throw himself into work so as to forget about the horrible mishap and give him an excuse to put off the future inevitability of what had to be THE worst conversation of his life. He slipped back into his element as though he never left, immersing himself in with his colleagues and getting a general idea of what there was to be done, and was more than THRILLED to know he was being given carte blanch to do it his way.

The small office he was given quickly became filled with books and files as he read up on things he missed out on for the near-three decades and integrated it into his own methods. By the end of the first week alone, notebooks were quickly filled, filing cabinets were stuffed to the brim, and he was thinking about getting another bookshelf when there was a loud buzzing in his desk drawer.

He fumbled through several sheets of paper before pulling out his cell phone that Sans had given him—and how on earth did it get in the drawer?—and saw that it was a call from Sans himself. He smiled, swiping it open. “Hello?”

 _“FINALLY, he speaks!”_ Sans's voice rang through from the other end. _“I barely hear from you aside from announcing you're home, Wingdings.”_

Gaster felt his face heat up, glancing guiltily around his office. “...I'm sorry, Sans,” he replied. “It's just...being back in a lab just takes me back to my old work, and—“

 _“Cool yer jets, Wingdingus, I was messin' with ya,”_ Sans laughed. _“I'm GLAD yer fittin' in so well, I really am. I was just callin' to see if you were doin' alright is all. I know how ya are when yer in th' zone like this.”_

Gaster smiled, leaning back in his chair. “You're too good to me, Sans,” he said softly. “And I'm doing just fine. I'm catching up on things I've missed for the past twenty-four years, making my own theories, planning out my own work...” He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “...it's right back where I want to be.”

 _“Ah, and once again, yer heart's been stolen by that cold bitch, Lady Science,”_ Sans said dramatically. _“Think I can pull you two away fer a couple o' hours for lunch?”_

“I could eat, yes.” Gaster rummaged around for his briefcase, finding it stashed on top of a filing cabinet under four books. “Where do you want to meet up?”

_“I know this GREAT bistro downtown, Salvetti's—“_

“NO!” Gaster's hand clenched around the phone, the other pressing to his face as he took a deep breath. “...er...not....not there, Sans...it's...it's where...”

 _“.......OH. Oh, shit, right...”_ Sans broke off to think. _“Then how's Grillby's sound?”_

Gaster let out a rush of breath. “Grillby's sounds perfectly fine,” he replied. “Meet you there in ten?”

_“Make it fifteen, I gotta find a clean shirt to wear.”_

“...Really, Sans?”

_“REALLY, Wingdings. Papyrus went on a laundry strike after I kept snitchin' socks an' rigged a sock trap in his closet as a prank, so...yeah.”_

“...Sans, you're in your late forties, honestly...”

_“Hey, just because YOU'RE fine bein' an old bag o' bones doesn't mean I hafta be. You get yer kicks yer way, I'll get mine my way. See ya at Grillby's.”_

“Alright. I love you, Sans.”

_“Love ya too, Wi—oh, hey, yeah, Paps, I'm just goin' to Grillby's with Wingdings—“_

Gaster pressed END CALL on reflex, his soul shuddering as it seemed to do whenever Papyrus was mentioned, let alone in the same proximity as the younger Skeleton. He regretted it somewhat that he had hung up on Sans, but he shook it off and put his cell phone into his pocket before heading out, informing his supervisor that he was taking a lunch and shortcutting to Grillby's.

Grillby's was a little busy this time of day, but Gaster easily found a booth near the back and sat down, giving an order for milk to sit down and wait for Sans with to the enthusiastic young waitress Grillby hired and sitting back. Despite the crowd, he found it comforting to look around and see Monsters and humans intermingling, watching games on the television, and enjoying the atmosphere as he was.

He looked up when the waitress came back and put a large milkshake in front of him. “Boss's recommendation!” she said with a wink, and Gaster glanced up, seeing Grillby nodding to him. He nodded back and sipped it, pleased at how it tasted; it was a treat, but it wasn't overly sweet, and had a definite undertone of espresso to it. He waved his approval to Grillby before taking another heavy sip.

“Hey, Wingdings!” Sans's voice came, getting his attention. “Glad you made it!” Gaster beamed, smiling brightly before his smile went frozen upon seeing that Sans brought someone with him. “Hope ya don't mind, but Papyrus actually wanted to come too.”

Papyrus stepped up beside Sans, giving Gaster a smile that seemed innocent, but coy at the same time. “...hello, Doctor,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “...we haven't had much time to really converse, but I wanted to apologize for...before.” His fingers fumbled around with each other. “I misread your interest and acted so shamefully. I'm sorry.”

Gaster's cheekbones were slightly purple, his own hands wringing. “...It is alright, Papyrus,” he replied. “I should have made it clear I wanted it to be a purely....platonic affair. It was a misunderstanding on both our parts.” He gave Papyrus a tentative smile, and was rewarded with a beaming one back to him.

“Great!” Sans chirped, sitting down across from Gaster. “Glad we could clear that up. The house has been so damn uncomfortable I could almost choke on it.” He waved over at Grillby. “'EY, GRILLBY, EVERYTHING ON MY TAB!”

“Oh, Sans, that's not necessary!” Gaster said. “I'm working now, I can pay for it!”

“I INSIST, Wingdings.”

Gaster sighed, but smiled, making some small talk with them—mostly Sans—as their drinks and food were brought over. He was just fully relaxing into the lunch when he felt something on his leg that pressed lightly and trailed upwards. He blinked, glancing over at Sans, who was casually telling Papyrus that he should have something BESIDES a milkshake before the smaller Skeleton caught his eyelight and gave him a smile.

Oh. _OH._

Gaster's cheekbones dusted purple as he quietly sipped his milkshake, trying to keep his composure as his tibia was practically molested, actually proud of his even voice when speaking that didn't betray his enjoyment. Soon, the discomfort from before was vanished and he finally relaxed.

Sans was just happy all that fracas from earlier was cleared out, taking a breather and enjoying his ketchup as he looked between Papyrus and Gaster, his ketchup bottle pausing halfway to his mouth as he observed them both for the first time. Both Gaster and Papyrus were sipping their respective milkshakes, both having one hand on the glass with the other holding the straw delicately between two fingers.

The more Sans thought about it, the more he realized the similarities between them was obvious. He often wondered over the probabilities between nurture and nature, and it was especially interesting regarding Monsters. Papyrus had mostly 'nature' working for him, thinking back on it; Papyrus always had an independent way about him, from his poise to his habits. Hell, even without hearing it before, Papyrus had always spoken with a North Capitol accent, with clear diction, softly-rolling rs, and loud projection.

There was also the nervous habit of wringing hands they both had, the gesturing with hands when anxious or excited, and the inability to sleep more than four consecutive hours, especially when something was on their minds.

It wasn't just mannerisms; Papyrus was incredibly smart in odd ways. Although he sometimes struggled with word jumble and simpler puzzles, he could create and build his own puzzle traps with an engineering prowess that surprised even Sans. Even some of the robot figurines that were in Papyrus's room were crafted himself, and Sans had an inkling that Papyrus's 'crush' on Mettaton was more of an engineering interest than anything.

His soul sunk slightly, feeling how it was unfair that he was allowed to watch Papyrus grow up and Gaster WASN'T, now only JUST getting to know him...after an uncomfortably rocky start.

Gaster's hand over his snapped him out of his thoughts, giving the taller Skeleton a bright, brave smile before there was a blip of his phone alarm. “Ah, damn, I'm due back at work,” he sighed, squeezing Gaster's hand tightly.

“So soon?” Gaster asked. “Very well then....” His smile broadened feeling the foot against his tibia slide up again. “I'll see you later tonight?”

“Of course. Paps is makin' chicken parmesan tonight, so make room for it!” He leaned over, giving Gaster's skull a quick kiss before slipping out of the booth. “See ya!”

Gaster smiled. “See you la...ter...” He trailed off, realizing that the foot on his tibia WAS STILL THERE. His eyelights trailed from Sans's retreating back to Papyrus, who was calmly polishing off his milkshake before standing, the foot slipping off of Gaster's tibia as the younger Skeleton set down some money.

“I will see you at home tonight, Doctor,” he said, giving Gaster a beaming smile before heading out of the restaurant, leaving Gaster in the booth with shaking hands and a pale, drained skull.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_A week, two, and then three passed, and Gaster hadn't seen Sans outside of group projects, and he hadn't initiated any form of contact with him. He owed Sans that; he owed Sans so damn much after everything._

_It didn't make it any easier, to go to work and see the other Skeleton and be WITHOUT him. Sans was always just a page away, or within reaching distance, but he might as well have been on the other end of the Underground. It hurt his soul, so much so that he began to feel it in his physical form._

_But, he reminded himself, that it had to be nothing compared to how SANS must feel. Keeping his failed marriage, keeping PAPYRUS from Sans, making Sans feel like a cheap lay...it was FURTHEST from the truth._

_He hated himself for what he did, and couldn't even bring himself to throw himself into his work the way he used to, because it all reminded him of Sans._

* * *

 

_Marcelle herself dropped Papyrus off for Gaster's week with him, and that was the one good highlight of his life at this point. Papyrus was always just a ray of light and joy, and it was difficult for Gaster to be depressed when taking care of Papyrus._

_This was a difficult week, however; there was a review on the lab works coming up and everyone was working extra hard, including himself. But he couldn't bear to have Papyrus for the week and not see him at home, so he elected to bring Papyrus with him to the labs. He spent most of his time in his office anyway now, and figured he could keep an eye out on Papyrus and spend some time with him while he worked. If anything, it was great incentive to take breaks every once and awhile._

_One such break was during Papyrus's feeding time, smiling softly to himself as the baby bones happily suckled on a bottle while wriggling around impatiently. He wasn't surprised at Papyrus's tenacity; intelligent children were always so stimuli-hungry, and Papyrus was no different. His infant son was so attentive when being read and spoken to, and already he was able to differentiate between colors and shapes._

_He briefly wondered about Papyrus becoming a scientist like himself one day before sobering that idea; if he was refusing Lordship of the Gasters, it would naturally fall to the only Gaster heir. Especially if his father Lord T.N.R.. Gaster had anything to say about it._

_It was unfair, both to him and to his son. Papyrus was a fresh, young Monster, so full of potential that would be wasted in the archaic, outdated traditions of nobility. Sometimes he—guiltily—wished the Gaster line would have died with him._

_But he wouldn't give Papyrus up for anything. He didn't know if it was because of Papyrus being born of his and Marcelle's own souls, but he and his separated wife both adored Papyrus unconditionally and wanted him in their lives. Though honestly, Marcelle would be more inclined to raise a future Lord Gaster rather than a future scientist. She was a socialite first and foremost, and accepted her class status much more easily than Gaster did. Still, she was a loving and attentive mother, and was the only reason why Gaster let her have Papyrus on alternating weeks to begin with._

_Papyrus finished eating and flailed around for something to play with, and Gaster found a large gummy ring in his bag for Papyrus to gnaw on; the baby bones was teething like crazy and was entering his biting phase, and it was better the ring than Gaster's finger. Again._

_After settling Papyrus down in his pen, he moved to return to his desk when there was a knock at his office door. He made sure Papyrus was preoccupied before turning to the door. “Come in,” he called out._

_The door opened, and Sans walked in._

_And Gaster felt the room go cold._

_Or that may have been his spine._

_He stared for a moment before collecting himself, fighting to keep his hands from wringing tightly in front of him to betray his absolute wreck of a nervous reaction. “...hello...” he said, then gestured in the office. “Please...come in.”_

_Sans kept his hand on the doorknob for a moment before walking in and shutting it behind him, his hands slipping into his pockets. “...I've thought long an' hard about this, Wingdings,” he said gruffly. “...and...it ain't been easy. I...for once, I thought I really HAD somethin' goin' with someone...”_

_Gaster wanted to speak up, to say 'WE DID', but he remained silent._

_“An' ya HURT me with this,” Sans continued, rubbing his face. “Ya...fuckin' HURT me, Wingdings. Like you don't even KNOW. A lie by omission is still a goddamn lie.” He stared at Gaster with hard blue-tinted eyelights that seemed wet but completely resolute. “...an' I NEVER. EVER. Want you to lie to me like that again.”_

_There was a long moment of silence before it clicked for Gaster what Sans was saying and looked up, his own eyelights quivering with hopefulness. “...you...you want to...?”_

_Sans's jaw was set firmly, but the hardness in his eyelights softened. “I fuckin' mean it, Wingdings,” he said. “Don't keep shit like this from me, y'hear? Whatever it is, I'll handle it with you, I promise I will!” He sighed. “...an'...you really meant it when ya said you an' yer....wife were—“_

_“Yes,” Gaster shot in quickly. “Yes, Sans. We are separated, and for good. It's YOU I want to be with, Sans, only YOU!” His legs shook from the nerves and relief of all this, but then figured that dignity could take a hike, dropping to his knees and taking Sans's hands in his own tightly. “Please, Sans, I'm sorry, I'll NEVER lie to you again, I love you too much to lose you!”_

_Sans's eyelights widened, his cheekbones turning blue. “...y....you what?” he asked. Gaster's eye sockets leaked tears as he pressed kisses to Sans's hands._

_“I love you, Sans,” he repeated. “I love you so much, I love you I love you I love you...” He trailed off when Sans tugged him up with a blue magic hold on his soul, pulling him in close and kissing him hard. Gaster kissed him back, holding him close and murmuring 'I love yous' between kisses. Sans leaned back, resting his skull against Gaster's._

_“...I love ya too, Wingdings,” he said, then jumped when there was a childish shriek that demanded attention from the corner. Gaster blushed, pulling back and turning to the pen to pick up his son, who calmed down as soon as he had attention given to him._

_“...um...I...should properly introduce you now...” Gaster said, giving Sans a watery smile. “...Sans, this is Papyrus Gaster, my son.”_

_Sans smiled a little, stepping closer to look Papyrus over. “...heh...he looks kinda like you, 'Dings,” he replied. Gaster nodded quietly._

_“Yes,” he said. “Rather, he has his mother's soul magic and my father's bone structure. You see how hardy it is?” He brushed a phalange over Papyrus's skull. “That is a Gaster's bone structure...I resemble my mother's side, mostly. Papyrus will easily tower over me when he's fully grown, I just know it.” He flicked his eyelights to Sans, who was beaming down at Papyrus. “...do you want to hold him?”_

_Sans's hands twitched for a moment before he nodded, easily taking Papyrus from Gaster and holding him close. Papyrus examined Sans before beaming and squealing happily. “Ahh, he's a cute kid,” Sans said, smiling as Papyrus grabbed a hold of his finger._

_Gaster was happy, watching the endearing scene._

_Less happy when Papyrus nearly bit through Sans's finger and promptly learned a new word he had to explain to Marcelle about._

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

It was difficult voicing his concerns about earlier at lunch to Sans, but he didn't want it all to simmer and skyrocket his anxiety as it had before.  Sans seemed a little disturbed by the fact, but, surprisingly, had an alternate reason.

"Papyrus fidgets a lot when he sits for a long time," he said, keeping a calming hand on Gaster's arm.  "He probably thought he was touching the table leg is all.  We had to get a new couch when we moved up here because he picked the other one to the stuffing from years of sitting on it watching TV."  He gave Gaster's arm a squeeze.  "Wingdings, I know you're still...sore about what happened before, but you gotta calm down, okay?  Papyrus apologized for it, an' he won't do it again."

Gaster let out a shaky sigh, nodding.  "...you're right..." he said softly.  "And...I AM still sore about it...it was just..."  His whole frame shuddered.  "The way it happened was...."  He shook his head.  "...I'm...I'm sorry, Sans, I try to NOT think about it, but..."

"I know, Wingdings...I know."  Sans pressed a kiss to Gaster's cheekbone.  "But you just need somethin' to forget about it..."  He nuzzled Gaster's face, scraping his teeth against his neck vertebrae, eliciting a full-body shudder from the taller Skeleton.  "I can make you forget all about it, Wingdings.  Would ya like that?"  He curled a hand to the back of Gaster's neck bones, pulling forward slightly to expose the vertebrae further.  Gaster's cheekbones flushed purple, his frame rattling with low purring as his hands clenched into Sans's jacket.  "Gods, I love that sound," Sans murmured, forming a tongue and licking over the vertebrae, grinning when Gaster let out a soft yelp.

"S-Sans...!" Gaster murmured, his eyelights flicking to the front door nervously.  Sans noticed, his grin going devious as he scooped Gaster closer and teleported them both to his bedroom, dropping Gaster back onto his bed and looming over him, the gleam in his eyelights predatory.  Gaster's flush deepened, squirming underneath Sans.

Sans chuckled, trailing a phalange over Gaster's shirt, the buttons coming undone easily.  "Still so adorably flustered when I take th' lead," he said.  "Well you just lie back an' focus on me now, 'Dings."  He crawled backwards until he was kneeling between Gaster's knees, undoing the taller Skeleton's pants and running his hands over Gaster's pelvis.  The majority of Gaster's skull was purple now, something he tried to cover with an arm pressed over his eye sockets, which amused Sans further.  "C'mon, 'Dings..." he crooned, running his fingers over Gaster's sacrum.  "Gotta give me somethin' to work with.  It's just you an' me, Wingdings, no one else.  Don't be embarrassed."

His fingers slid down and rubbed along Gaster's coccyx, causing the other Skeleton to arch his hips hard and congeal his magic within his pelvis.  Sans withdrew his hand, his frame rattling with soft growls as Gaster's magic formed a solid, almost tentacle-like appendage.  Gods, he had almost forgotten what this was like; the last time he and Gaster were in bed like this had been a rushed affair with them rutting like teenagers in a desperate attempt to be close again.  Now that he was taking his time, getting up close and personal with Gaster, he recalled how shy Gaster could be when things were taken slow (and sober).  Then again, almost thirty years in the Void with no one to really look at him might have desensitized him to things like this.

He growled softly, wrapping a hand around the appendage and stroking lightly, alternating his gaze between Gaster's visage reaction and the pulsing it was causing on his soul through his rib cage.  Gaster's breathing was ragged and hitched, muffling moans into his shirt sleeve.  Well, Sans just couldn't have THAT.  If he had to train Gaster out of that shyness AGAIN, then so be it.  More fun for HIM. 

Sans's hand tightened around the construct, making Gaster's hips arch off the bed with a strangled yelp.  "I don't want you to muffle yourself, 'Dings," he purred, stroking faster.  "I want ya to be nice an' loud.  No neighbors, no housemates, NOTHIN' but you an' me.  C'mon, lemme hear that beautiful voice."  He unfurled his tongue from between his teeth, giving the appendage a long, hard lick.

"AH--!" Gaster yelped, his hand clenching tightly into the sheets.  "Oh GODS--"

"Don't be prayin' to no gods, Wingdings," Sans growled, his left eyelight blazing blue.  "Better be prayin' to ME if ya want it."  He curled his tongue around it and slipped a couple inches between his teeth and into his mouth.

"SANS--!"  Gaster's free hand couldn't seem to figure out what it wanted to do; to clench into the sheet or shove Sans's head down further, ANYTHING, really.  His hips trembled as Sans's tongue flexed around him, daring to glance down and nearly passed out when he saw the raw, predatory fire in Sans's left eyelight hone in on him, DEMANDING submission.  "S-Sans, PLEASE--"

 **'BEG HARDER,'** Sans seemed to tell him, just from eyelight contact alone, accompanied by taking more of Gaster into his mouth.  Gaster's head dropped back hard on the bed, his teeth grinding together tightly as he bucked his hips again, only to have them pinned down by Sans.

"PLEASE, Sans!" he cried.  "PLEASE, I want MORE, I want YOU, my love, PLEASE--!"  He let out a sharp yelp when Sans grabbed his left femur and pushed it up hard, using his free hand to reach under and press two fingers IN THROUGH HIS MAGIC to rub against his coccyx.  Gaster nearly howled, one hand clawing into the sheet while the other clasped around Sans's skull, any ability to form words completely out of his reach as his magic reacted in kind.  Dark purple congealed magic slithered up around his spine and expanded outward into constructed tendrils that writhed around for something to grab hold of while he screeched himself into an orgasm.  His soul let out a thick pulse, much like a bubble popping that oozed magical residue between his ribs, his tendrilar constructs doing the same, dripping thickly onto the bed before they vanished into nothing.

Sans lifted his head, wiping the magical residue from his mandible as he smiled down at Gaster, the doctor looking entirely undone beneath him, absolutely darling to look behold.  He crawled up to Gaster, relaxing on the taller Skeleton's chest, his hand brushing Gaster's cheekbone gently.  "You're so beautiful, Wingdings..." he murmured, kissing over Gaster's face and neck bones.  "I love ya so much..."  He smiled when Gaster turned his head and kissed him, feeling the other curl his arms around him.

"I love you too, Sans..." Gaster replied, relaxing back and enjoying his post-orgasmic afterglow.

They had several blessed moments of silence before Sans let out a soft snerk.  "...So...when did ya get th' tentacles, 'Dings?"

"...Sans."

"Been spyin' on Alphys while she watches her 'special anime?'"

"Sans!"

"Y'know, I haven't still gotten off..."

"Sans, no!"

"Sans YES."

* * *

 

  _Papyrus sat leaning against his wall, having not moved since the sounds of his brother and the doctor having finished fornicating ended hours ago.  He remained motionless until the early hours of the morning, through Sans getting up to take care of an early job and leaving.  Only then, did he finally move.  
_

_He silently took a shortcut into Sans's room, making no noise as he stared down at the sleeping doctor in Sans's bed.  Gaster was in a deep sleep, making good use of the day off no doubt Sans convinced him to take, looking so peaceful and innocent...like he WASN'T going to drag Sans away little by little.  And to have the arrogance to do so in Papyrus's own home, right in front of him, even!_

_Getting the doctor attached to Grillby was a bust, but Papyrus was not one to just simply give up.  No...if he couldn't have Gaster form an attachment to Grillby, then he'd get the doctor to form an attachment to HIM.  It would be a sacrifice on his part, and one that he wouldn't mind.  ANYTHING to keep his family together, to keep Sans from leaving him like it seemed everyone else had, like the friendships he had made Underground meant NOTHING as everyone moved away, no longer called, no longer visited.  But HE would stay, always.  And once Sans was concretely settled back into their old routine, the doctor could take a hike back to wherever he came from._

_Papyrus reached out and gently brushed his phalanges over Gaster's skull, letting his soul's scent and comforting energy wisp out as he did so.  Gaster shifted slightly but was nowhere near waking up, instead leaning into the touch contently.  Perfect, Papyrus thought to himself.  He'd thought this out well.  Some time ago, he'd read up on something of interest called Pavlovian conditioning, where he could use a form of stimuli to subconsciously change behavior in someone, and it seemed to be the perfect solution.  He'd get the doctor used to his touch, comforted by his scent and his soul energy, and little by little, he'd entice Gaster to him, just like Gaster was doing to his brother.  
_

_Sans would understand, eventually.  He'd see that Gaster was more interested in Papyrus than him, and simply get over it and move on.  Just like how he convinced Sans that Grillby was more interested in his restaurant, or Toriel with her school and children.  He considered Gaster's excuse being science, but wrote it off, remembering that Sans was once a scientist too.  No, it seemed that Gaster needed a living attachment._

_Papyrus let his scent and soul aura permeate his touch, leaving the imprint on Gaster's bones for him and ONLY him to recall and remember before pulling away and stepping back.  Not too much, or even Sans would start catching something amiss, and that would just ruin everything.  He gave Gaster one more look of disdain before shortcutting out and going to take a shower._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a filler chapter to move the backstory segments along!

_It was getting harder and harder for Gaster to give Papyrus back to Marcelle for her week of custody, for several reasons.  Not only did he adore Papyrus, but Sans did as well._

_Sans was so good with kids, and Papyrus had him wrapped around his little phalage from day one--teething bite and all.  But Papyrus had picked up on Sans's name and always shouted for him whenever he was brought to the labs.  Working in tandem, Gaster and Sans worked with Papyrus latched on to one or the other, and it was done so easily and happily to the point where the labs seemed empty and lacking when Papyrus wasn't there._

_Gaster felt...content when he was with both Sans and Papyrus.  More than once, he would be working on some last-minute papers in his office and look over to see Sans on the seat holding Papyrus, his smaller partner looking so serene and at home holding a baby bones...a baby bones that could have been THEIRS, in different circumstances.  Gods, Gaster could just see it...that almost dreamy idea of him and Sans married, with Papyrus being theirs full-time...maybe giving Papyrus a little brother or sister._

_Heh...wouldn't that just be the thing?  If only Gaster didn't have to wait for his own father to kick the dust bucket, but THAT didn't seem to be something happening anytime soon._

_***_

_Gaster waited patiently with Sans and the rest of their team for King Asgore and the sponsors to come by and look at their research and pray their department was one that would be kept on the funding roster.  He couldn't fathom why it WOULDN'T, considering he was on the verge of a breakthrough on his research on the Void that would possibly be the solution to their way out of the Underground without needing the rest of the seven souls...but it didn't make him any less nervous.  Sans noticed, giving him a smile and a quick squeeze of the hand that DID make him feel better._

_For all of eleven seconds, until his OWN FATHER walked into the labs with Asgore._

_Sans let out a strangled yelp when Gaster's hand nearly crushed his.  "Ah--geeze, 'Dings--"  He frowned when Gaster jerked his hand away, glancing over to see Gaster's posture go rod-straight, hands folded neatly behind his back and a firm mask of indifference in place, only his quivering eyelights betraying the facade of nobility.  Sans followed the gaze to the door, seeing King Asgore being flanked by three more Monsters of high standing, one of them seeming to overwhelm even the King with his presence, and Sans didn't even have to GUESS who it was._

_Lord Times New Roman Gaster was truly a formidable sight; easily clearing seven feet tall with the kind of bone structure that looked solid, but his gliding gait and almost flowing clothing making him appear almost ethereal.  What was most striking about the man, however, was that he had no eyelights, only empty, black eye sockets that seemed darker than the Void that Sans and Gaster were studying.  
_

_The Lord paid no heed to them as Asgore strolled by to finish making the subject rounds, and by that point Sans could see a visible sheen of sweat on Gaster's skull.  The taller Skeleton was almost rattling, as hard as he was trying to suppress his shaking, which only intensified when the sponsors parted from the King to go to their interests of funding and Lord Gaster made his way right to the Void Studies group._

_The others in their study group didn't look much better than Gaster in the presence of Lord T.N.R., who didn't look impressed, but didn't look unimpressed either.  The tall Skeleton's empty eye sockets swept over the group before honing in on Sans.  "Accompany me to your labs, and explain your research," he said, and Sans felt a shudder jolt up his spine at the breathy baritone of the man's voice._

_"...Dr. Gaster is actually the head of the department--" he began._

_"I did not ask to speak with Dr. Gaster.  I want to speak with YOU."_

_Oh.  Oh shit.  Sans had a feeling that this was not just for funding purposes.  Either way, the man WAS set as a sponsor, and Sans COULDN'T refuse with the King right over there.  He gave the elder Lord a nod and headed back to the labs, feeling Gaster's worried gaze on the back of his skull._

_The presence of Lord T.N.R. Gaster was even more overwhelming without anyone else's to add to the mix, and Sans almost felt smothered by it.  Still, he refused to be cowed by ANYONE, least of all an elitist, and he straightened his spine to begin speaking about their research.  The Lord was silent the entire time, and Sans didn't look back to gauge his reactions, just continuously talking about his and Gaster's primary work and the potential it had to free everyone.  Soon, he was done speaking, and finally turned around, seeing the Lord a short distance away and looking at a machine that Gaster had designed almost thoughtfully._

_"...It's...a device meant to go into the Void without harm," Sans said; that particular device was...something of a source of discomfort for him.  It was TRULY meant to go into the Void and transcend time and space itself...something that terrified Sans to the soul.  "It's untested as of yet."_

_T.N.R. made a thoughtful sound, reaching up and running a long, elegant hand over the surface.  "...you are correct in your assumptions, boy," he finally spoke.  "I did not just select you to speak about your research.  I wanted to speak to you about my son."_

_Sans felt his jaw twitch slightly, not feeling comfortable with the fact that this guy could obviously--_

_"I can read soul auras," T.N.R. finished.  "Once you read the patterns, it's increasingly easy to read intentions, and even thoughts.  It is a rare gift among our kind."_

_"...'our' kind?"_

_"Skeletons, boy."  T.N.R.'s hand continued to brush the surface of the machine.  "We are unique among Monsters.  Though our origins are murky at best, it IS a clear assumption that we are perhaps the result of necromancy gone wrong in humankind, or the bastard creations between Monsters and humans.  Either way, it has granted us magics that even Monsters would fear."  He turned his head slightly, his pitch-black eye socket boring into Sans's eyelight.  "You know what I speak of."_

_Sans flexed his hands to keep them from shaking, giving him a one-shouldered shrug.  "I wouldn't know," he replied.  "I'm just a guy who happened to have th' good luck of great intelligence."_

_"A rarity, considering your class," T.N.R. replied.  "The Gasters are a high class, not because of wealth...but because of POWER.  We have carefully bred ourselves to maintain that power, and it was that power that saved who we could in the War."  He looked back over to the machine.  "I am not a combative person, and neither is my power.  I read auras, but I cannot manipulate them.  YOUR family magic, on the other hand..."  
_

_Sans's left eyelight glowed blue on reflex before he smothered it down.  "Yeah, so the Serifs fought even if our kind are pacifists, so what?" he muttered.  "What's your point?"_

_T.NR.'s hand paused on the machine.  "I am married to Destine, of the Mystic family.  They have a long line of prophets and seers, and my own father thought it best to marry into that.  Destine had few visions in her life, but the moment she was pregnant with Wingdings, she began having visions of terror and darkness.  She began speaking in a tongue she called 'Wingdings', and named out son such.  Her last vision after his birth was one of pain and agony to those associated with Wingdings before she was normal again.  She remembered nothing."  He glanced at Sans again.  "Can you imagine it, Serif?  A mother not remembering carrying and birthing her own child, a new husband and father being forced to endure prophecies of pain and despair, knowing his own SON would be the cause?"_

_Sans scowled, clenching his hands.  "...with all UNdue respect," he sneered, "that sounds like a load o' shit.  Wingdings is one of th' kindest, gentlest souls I've ever met!  I'm HAPPIER havin' him in my life than ANYTHING else!"_

_T.N.R. shook his head slowly, taking his hand off of the machine.  "Then you are a fool," he said.  "Wingdings has visions too...visions of things he should not trifle with, and still he does.  Meddling with time and space...a ludicrous prospect!  He risks unraveling the threads of reality, simply to sate his own perverse curiosities."  He turned to Sans.  "He will be your downfall, Serif.  I do not know how, or when, but you will not be the same when it happens.  And it WILL."_

_Sans's clenched hands shook hard, his eyelight flickering.  "...I think we're done here," he replied curtly.  "Nice to finally meet you, Lord Gaster, I wish I could say it was a pleasure."_

_"And the same to you, Dr. Serif.  But my warning remains.  Do try to heed it."  With that, T.N.R. turned and glided out of the labs, leaving Sans alone with the machine that suddenly seemed ten times more ominous than ever before._


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for this chapter.

It was...odd.

Gaster was doing so well with his new life now.  His work in the labs was taking off to amazing heights, earning him respect and admiration from the other scientists, his relationship with Sans was comfortable (okay, more on the side of hot rather than tepid), and he felt that he was making great strides in establishing a relationship with Papyrus.

But still...it was ODD.  The latter part, especially.

He had expected to be shying away from Papyrus for a good while after that disaster of a 'date', but it seemed that practically overnight his aversion to Papyrus vanished and an entirely new relationship was formed.  Papyrus was enthusiastic and sweet, greeting and bidding farewell to Gaster every morning and evening, doing little things like straightening his tie (whilst simultaneously looking at Sans with exasperation of his older brother's sloppy taste in clothing), or handing out small, passing gestures like a hand on the shoulder or the arm.  Nothing suggestive, but it was comforting, almost, and Gaster couldn't help but enjoy it.

And that's what made it ODD. 

He didn't want to voice his concerns to Sans; he was sure his boyfriend was already tired of hearing him complain about problems that weren't even really real, and he was already tired of his own issues.  But his instincts were telling him that something was not ENTIRELY right, and if he learned anything from experience, it was that his instincts should not be ignored.  He tried paying attention, but according to Sans, nothing Papyrus was doing seemed out of the ordinary.  It was infuriating to his own well-being that his instincts were contradicting the insistence that everything was fine.

His worry must have visibly shown, and Sans began insisting on him taking at least two days off a week from the labs, if anything just to get extra rest in.  Sans reasoned that being so existentially aware in the Void for twenty-odd years without sleep, PLUS the year-and-a-half of domicile-hopping in the Underground after his return wasn't doing his psyche any favors, especially since he was back in a fully physical form.

Gaster couldn't argue with that.  He had all but forgotten the limitations of having a physical form, but even before he was in the Void he could hardly bring himself to sleep longer than four hours unless he was ill, drugged, or drunk.  Sleep was...an oddity with him. 

He didn't have DREAMS, per se, so much as experiences of senses, or even his inherited gift of 'seeing' things.  It was what drove him to science in the first place, wanting to do what magic could not.  Far too late did he see that most of what he 'saw' were not meant to be 'seen', but even now he had difficulty curbing his lust for ANSWERS.  RESULTS he could touch.

He had enough results as it was.  His time in the Void had changed several things about him, down to his soul.  Much like Sans, he could use his connection with the Void to pass through space from one point to another--'shortcuts', Sans called them.  When he was overwhelmed with emotions or sensations, his soul would make up for his physical body's limitations and add 'extras' to compensate the excess of buildup in his soul....often with embarrassing side-effects that Sans found dirtily amusing.  He still hadn't completely experimented with what he was now capable of, and he honestly didn't WANT to.  He was all too familiar with how drunk on power he could become, and exercised as much self-control as he was able to prevent it from happening again.

One thing he couldn't turn off, however, was that insistent little instinct that always let him know if something was up, be it someone coming close when he shouldn't be able to see or hear or sense them, or if his son was less-than-innocent in his every action toward him.  He only hoped his instincts were just clashing with his paranoia, and that it would just ebb down soon and cease the torment.

* * *

_Papyrus was glad that Sans insisted that Gaster take two days off a week.  It made it easier to catch the doctor alone on these days, when Sans was out working himself and left Gaster alone for some R &R.  It also made the sleeping aids Papyrus put into Gaster's drinks more useful and less suspicious if Gaster was SUPPOSED to be resting on his days off.  
_

_He looked over the sleeping doctor quietly, as he always did when he first began.  It wasn't just to make sure Gaster was deep-sleeping, but it was also interesting to just WATCH the doctor and examine him.  He could grudgingly see why Sans liked the man; he was intelligent, patient, and quite a handsome Skeleton.  But his presence was also a distraction, and one that Papyrus couldn't handle Sans immersing into until there was no turning back.  Sans had such an addictive personality--first with drinking, then with sleeping, and, for a point, sex--and if he was too far gone with Gaster...he would probably never come back._

_Papyrus let out a soft growl that rattled his bones gently, stepping forward to the sleeping scientist and brushing his phalanges over Gaster's skull and cheekbones.  The doctor relaxed into his touch as he normally did, a faint dusting of purple coloring his cheekbones as Papyrus trailed his hands lower to Gaster's shoulders, gently undoing the buttons on his shirt to expose his sternum and clavicle with a hint of ribs.  He could honestly appreciate the aesthetics that the doctor sported, with the fine bone structure and tidy appearance.  Papyrus would have appreciated it much more, if he wasn't the current bane of his existence.  
_

_Gaster shifted slightly, letting out a soft, contented sigh as Papyrus brushed his phalanges over his sternum and clavicle.  Papyrus let out a soft rattling purr, leaning down and nuzzling his skull against Gaster's, smiling at the positive aura of feedback that Gaster subconsciously put out.  If only Gaster wasn't bent on taking Sans from him...he could see himself with an intelligent, tidy Monster with a good work ethic.  A shame it had to be done THIS way, but whatever it took, he'd keep his brother in his life._

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_Gaster knew that something was wrong._

_He didn't know WHY he had this feeling; his life seemed to be going amazingly.  He had happy days with Papyrus and Sans, his father said NOTHING about his relationship with Sans, even though Gaster KNEW the old man acknowledged there was something between them, and he even went for broke and met Sans's family._

_The patriarch of the Serifs, Cancun, did indeed test Gaster's moxie with blue magic, and seemed impressed that Gaster was able to handle sudden shifts in gravitational pulls.  Despite his hard appearance--he had Sans's thick bone structure but with more chips and scars from the war--he was a jovial sort that could go from stoic to laughing uproariously at the first sign of a good joke._

_Sans's mother Matisse was very warm and caring and gave Gaster the bone-crushing hugs that Sans had previously warned him about.  She fretted over his 'delicate' bone structure and set to offering him snacks every time he had his hands empty, and had him completely at ease--and in stitches--at her brilliant arsenal of food puns._

_Sans had FOUR younger siblings--triplet younger sisters and a little brother.  Ariel, Allegro, and Asterisk all seemed enamored with him--or rather his height; none of the Serifs even came up to his shoulder--and liked examining the bone structure of his hands and skull while Sans would sit back and snicker like a loon at Gaster's helpless look.  Sans's little brother Tyke, however, hung back shyly, sticking close to Sans as he examined Gaster from a short distance.  Sans figured he was just intimidated by Gaster's height, and assured that Tyke would warm up to him eventually.  He wasn't wrong, and by the end of Gaster's day with the Serifs, he had the triplets all dozing under his long coat--enjoying the silk lining, most likely--and Tyke curled up asleep on his lap as he had coffee with the adults, feeling more at home here than he ever had back in the North Capitol._

_He thanked them for their hospitality, made plans to see them again, and left with Sans feeling joyous and happy._

_So why, then, did he feel that something was wrong?_

_The FEELING worsened over the next week, and he was hard-pressed to leave his labs for much of anything, mostly to distract himself from the harbinger pinging on his spine.  Sans noticed and tried to make him talk about it, to no avail.  Even having Papyrus over wasn't doing Gaster any good, and on Wednesday before Papyrus was meant to return to Marcelle, Sans stopped Gaster from leaving the labs._

_"You're always more stressed comin' back from home than leavin'," he said, giving Gaster a calm smile.  "...how's about we all stay here tonight?"_

_"...in the labs," Gaster replied flatly.  Sans shrugged, grinning._

_"I don't see why not," he said.  "Not like you haven't done it before, an' home can be kinda...lonely.  I get that."  He leaned up, kissing Gaster's cheekbone.  "I've got some old movies an' junk that Al fixed up from the dump, some snacks I keep stashed in my locker, an' not a damn thing to do until tomorrow afternoon.  You're Head Royal Scientist, you can make 'movie night' an executive decision."_

_Gaster snorted, shaking his head with a smile.  "You're a mad genius, Sans," he said, turning to pick Papyrus up.  "Alright, we'll try it your way.  I haven't seen a movie in a good while anyway."_

_"Great, I'll get th' stuff, you just get comfortable!"_

_And once again, Sans was proven right.  The movies he brought WERE funny, and this 'National Lampoon' collection had him in hyesterics while Sans was more partial to the Abbot and Costello.  Soon, all three Skeletons were dozing on Gaster's seat, the last of the movies winding down on its own without an audience._

* * *

 

**_SCREAMING_ **

**_CRYING_ **

**_DUST_ **

**_SCREAMING_ **

**_SCREAMING_ **

**_DUST_ **

**_CRYING_ **

**_DUST_ **

**_DUST_ **

**_DUST_ **

_Gaster jerked upright with a choking gasp, coughing as though he had been choking on something and immediately rousing Sans from sleep.  Sans hurriedly scooted over, holding Gaster upright while the taller Skeleton kept coughing wetly, black-purple specks of magical residue flicking out from between his teeth.  "Holy shit, 'Dings, what's wrong!?" he cried, keeping a tight hold on Gaster, whose coughing fit slowly ebbed down until he was taking deep, panicked breaths._

_"I...I don't....know....!" Gaster wheezed, his words slurred and weak and eyelights barely visible from his panic.  "....b...bad dream...very.....very bad....dream....!"_

_Sans sighed with relief, pulling Gaster closer and rubbing over Gaster's scapulae comfortingly.  "It's alright, 'Dings," he murmured.  "You're alright...me an' Paps are alright...you're okay..."  He pressed a kiss to Gaster's skull.  "Lemme go get you somethin' to drink, alright?  You stay here with Papyrus."  He slipped off of the seat and headed to the door, almost getting thrown back when it burst open, showing a hysterical Alphys.  "WHOA, AL--"_

_"OH MY GOD!" she screamed, her hands flying to her mouth as she leaned against the door frame looking two seconds away from passing out on the floor.  "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE ALIVE!"_

_"Alive?" Sans said, frowning as he turned to Gaster for an explanation and found only the same confusion of himself.  "...What are you talkin' about, Alphys, of course we're alive--"_

_"NO!" Alphys wailed, sinking to the floor and covering her head with her hands, tears streaming down her face.  "YOU DON'T GET IT!  YOU...you don't....you...."  She let out a choked sob as Gaster stumbled over and helped her sit up.  She reached out and clasped a hand into his shirt tightly, shaking.  "...they're all gone...!"_

_Coldness settled over Gaster and Sans.  "...what'ya mean, 'they're all gone'?" Sans asked slowly.  Alphys struggled to catch her breath for a moment before ducking her head down._

_"...th...there w-was....an attack...!" she stammered.  "...all...all at once....in th-the C-Capitol...."  Her breath hitched hard.  "...a...all of the-the Skeletons....they...they were all attacked...!"_

_Gaster jerked back as though Alphys had electrocuted him, turning to Sans whose bones had drained to pearl white before the smaller Skeleton bolted out of the office.  "SANS!" Gaster shouted, jumping up and looking frantically between Sans and Papyrus.  "...Alphys, please, watch my son!" he cried before running after Sans._

_His soul pounded, his rib cage burned, his legs felt numb, and dread crawled up his spine as he ran.  He knew.  He didn't know why, but he knew.  He didn't know WHAT he knew, or why he knew, but he KNEW.  HE KNEW--_

_A screaming wail had him skidding to a halt and his spine turned to ice._

_Dust._

_Dust EVERYWHERE._

_Everywhere he KNEW a Skeleton once lived._

_Monsters around them looked shocked and even relieved that he and Sans were unharmed, but he barely noticed that.  He kept following Sans until they made it to the Serif household, where two Royal Healers were carrying out a small form.  Sans let out a beastlike snarl, shoving the Healers away with blue magic and snatching the small form up, which Gaster recognized as Tyke.  
_

_The small child, still practically a baby bones, looked so fragile and weak, his bones a sickly grey color and his skull having several cracks running over it, and he was covered in dust that was not his own.  Sans held Tyke to him close, shaking.  "It's alright, Tyke, I'm here...." he murmured, his voice shaking.  "...it's okay, big bro's here...."  Tyke's small hand weakly grabbed at Sans's shirt, his eye sockets void of lights and gaze unfocused.  
_

_"...Ma.........Pop.................sissies........" he whimpered weakly.  "..........hurts, Sans...............it.......hurts........"  His hand unclenched from Sans's shirt, his body going lax as it dusted, right there in Sans's arms._

_Sans stared at the pile of dusty clothes, his body shaking violently before he let out a piercing scream, his magic lashing out violently.  Gaster was numb as he stumbled over and dropped to the ground, holding Sans to him tightly and ignoring the sharp stings of the magic snapping at his bones, unable to do or say anything as Sans just screamed and exacerbated the dark pounding in his skull._

**_Screaming._ **

**_Crying._ **

**_Dust._ **

_A dark dream come true._


	16. Chapter 16

It was a source of great excitement--and fear--that the prototype for the second Core was complete and ready to be tested.

Building the first had taken YEARS for Gaster back Underground, but with modern technology at his hands and MUCH more support, he was able to create one within MONTHS and have it set up to provide a nearby village with power. 

He had been correct in his musings of this creating jobs withing Monster-kind to make it work--Fire Monsters of many sorts worked with drill teams to locate magma sources and put energy converters into place, work that would have been impossible for humans.  However, he included the humans in his work, employing geologists to pinpoint magma spots and physicists and engineers like himself to make sure the first prototype would be in perfect working order.

A week after getting the OK and setting it up--success.  A 100% energy output that was stable and clean with no side-effects or produced any form of waste.  The reception from the village was all positive and reports sent back promised only good things for future Cores that could move global.

The news put Gaster in a good place, emotionally and mentally, and any issue he felt he had went out the window as he phoned Sans in his office, telling him that he just signed on a government contract to build two complete working models in separate ends of the country.

 _"You gotta be shittin' me!"_ Sans practically shouted through the phone.  _"I don't even wanna KNOW the paycheck THAT'LL bring ya!"_

"Then I won't tell you," Gaster replied, beaming so hard he feared his mandible may drop off.  "But it's not the money, Sans, it's my life's work coming to fruition here on the Surface!"  He sat back in his desk chair.  "But it's more of a government grant to build it combined with my actual pay for work.  I don't want to profit off of the Core's output.  It's the Earth's magma that provides the energy, I just made the conversion unit--"

 _"Gonna stop ya right there, 'Dings,"_ Sans said, his voice serious.  _"You DESERVE compensation for yer work.  What you've created is a work of GENIUS that'll do some real good in th' world for people who need it.  Don't sell yerself short."_   Gaster could HEAR the smile Sans had on his face.  _"Wingdings, take th' money.  If ya don't feel like keepin' it, donate it back to yer department, just like you used to.  But I want you taken care of an' happy.  Capice?"_

"...I know, Sans," Gaster said, smiling softly.  "...and thank you."  He tapped his phalanges over the desk top.  "...Sans...have you ever considered--"

 _"No, Wingdings,"_ Sans said firmly but gently.  _"I...liked what I did long ago, but....it's not me anymore..."_

Gaster sighed softly.  "...I understand, Sans," he said.  "...but YOU understand that I value your ideas and input more than anyone else's...and I WANT your ideas and input."  He smiled softly.  "It's how I came to know you in the first place."

 _"Romantic sap,"_ Sans retorted.  _"But I get it.  I get it.  An' I wanna take ya out to celebrate.  When're yer next days off?"_

"Well, I know you don't really like it, but I HAVE to run an all-nighter to get the rest of this work done, BUT I was granted a week's vacation in six days, what did you have in mind?"

_"A week?  I can work with that.  Question is, can YOU?"_

"....can I what?  I don't--oh.  OH."  Gaster's skull turned purple.  "I...would like that very much, Sans."

 _"Yeah, I bet ya do,"_ Sans retorted with a smirk Gaster KNEW he had on his face.  _"I'll make th' arrangements, you just keep workin' that beautiful mind o' yers for now before I blow it later."_

"SANS, OH MY GOD!"  Gaster DESPERATELY hoped his cellphone wasn't government tapped.  "I'm getting off the phone now, you deviant!"

Sans laughed so hard he was no doubt a snorting mess on the floor back home.  _"If ONLY I could see yer face!"_ he gasped.  _"Alright, alright, enough fer now, I know how HOT ya get when I talk dirty.  I'll save it for th' vacation next week.  Later, Wingdings.  Love ya."_

Gaster rubbed his face, smiling despite himself.  "I love you too, Sans," he said.  "Goodbye."  He hung up the phone, his face still purple but his soul fluttering like a lovesick teenager.  He honestly couldn't wait for a vacation with Sans.  Just the two of them.  Alone.  With enough time to finally reconnect for REAL.

His cheekbones darkened slightly, thinking about it; he and Sans had been intimate on-and-off, but they hadn't actually had sex yet.  Both of them just...KNEW that it wasn't time for that yet.  It had still been too soon in their rekindled relationship to go THAT far, too many hurts they hadn't talked out yet.  But this week alone...he knew it would be the time. 

And he honestly couldn't wait.

* * *

 

_Papyrus crept into Gaster's office late that night, seeing the doctor dozed off on his seat, half-read files spread out on the floor around the seat here and there.  Papyrus could SENSE the exhaustion from Gaster, and knew that the need for his mild sedative wouldn't be necessary tonight._

_He had overheard Sans's conversation on the phone and felt a twinge of both urgency and bitterness.  A whole week with Sans...he wouldn't have ANY time to further condition Gaster to HIS touch.  No, he had to progress this a LITTLE further._

_Papyrus stepped over to Gaster silently, leaning down until his head nearly touched Gaster's skull, letting his aura seep out comfortingly as he softly nuzzled at Gaster. **"Sleep,"** he said, his voice taking on a background shudder, as though someone was hearing an echo of a voice that never spoke in the first place.  **"Relax."** Any residual tension in Gaster's body relaxed completely, and Papyrus slowly shifted around to Gaster's side, gently undoing the doctor's shirt, running his hands over Gaster's ribcage._

_Gaster let out a contented sigh, but was nowhere near waking up.  Papyrus purred, keeping his aura level balanced between relaxing and stimulating as he traced every one of Gaster's ribs with his fingers before trailing down the doctor's spine.  Gaster's cheekbones dusted with purple, his soul letting out a gentle pulse as Papyrus ran an finger up and down his vertebrae, and Papyrus watched, almost fascinated, as Gaster's magic began seeping around his spine, forming wisps of tendril magic that curled around the younger Skeleton's fingers._

_THAT was certainly interesting, Papyrus thought to himself as he twirled his fingers around the magic, feeling it solidify under his touch and become more insistent.  Insistent was what Papyrus was aiming for, though, and he figured that he could go a little further tonight.  He would have to, if he didn't want that vacation to undo his hard work._

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

_The reaction to the genocide of the Skeleton Monsters was nothing short of pure, unadulterated horror._

_I_ _t had all happened so fast, with premeditated precision to hit every Skeleton household in the Capitol, all put together by the radical Monsters who, even in the war, thought of Skeletons as nothing more than the bastard second coming of the humans.  According to those who were captured in the act by the Royal Guard and made to confess, the move against the Skeleton Monsters had been a long time planning and many proclaimed that they felt themselves proud of their success._

_Their pride was short-lived, however, when three surviving Skeleton Monsters walked into the Judgement Hall and looked on the captured Monsters with despair and anguish that was palpable._

_There was a hearing with witnesses before the King, where the Monsters reiterated their plans, now with the last remaining Skeleton Monsters to hear the disgusting tale of murder--and that's what Asgore proclaimed it to be.  Nothing less than MURDER.  It was a crime against Monster-kind, and one that would not be escaping punishment._

_For the first time in his reign, Asgore served a death sentence--to each and every Monster who had been involved in the genocide of the Skeletons._

_During the entire hearing, Sans held onto a picture of his family in a death grip, bursting into sobs when the verdict and sentencing was announced with tears that held no sense of joy at all--only grief that it sealed the fact that it was REAL.  That his species was almost extinct, that his family was GONE._

_Gaster stood beside him, holding Papyrus with nothing less than stony neutrality born and bred into his marrowline, feeling a maelstrom of conflict within his soul.  His family had not been one he would have personally chose, but the fact that his mother, his father, the mother of his child and HER family were all dead and gone.  Simple or gentle-born, the Skeletons were wiped out with a cruelty he couldn't even think possible with only himself, Sans, and Papyrus left._

_Three.  Three out of over a hundred that had managed to survive the war against the humans._

_He reached down and touched Sans's shoulder, keeping his hand there firmly to let Sans know he was there while his free arm held Papyrus more securely.  Not even a year old yet, Papyrus still knew that something was WRONG.  His mother was not there, and Papyrus had a very accurate internal clock.  He had been fussy the first day, but was nearly inconsolable until Gaster gave him a mild sedative hours before the trial.  As much as Gaster and Marcelle never truly got along, he knew his late wife truly had loved Papyrus and did everything she could to be a good and attentive mother._

_And those BEASTS had taken that away from his son._

_His expression remained cold and stony through the rest of the hearing, sitting in silence with Sans as the smaller Skeleton cried himself out and the Judgement Hall cleared, ignoring the looks of pity the other Monsters were giving them.  He didn't want pity.  He wanted justice.  REAL justice.  He wanted SUFFERING for what had happened.  A painless dusting would not satisfy him, and he was sure it would not satisfy Sans.  
_

_After Sans cried himself out and passed out from exhaustion, Gaster allowed Royal Guards to help relocate him somewhere he could sleep before quietly heading to the Capitol Hall to meet with Nightly, an owl-like Bird Monster who had been a trusted friend of the Gasters for decades and had thus been on request to be the executor of Lord T.N.R. Gaster's will._

_Nightly bowed his head in a sign of sorrow and respect to Gaster, letting him into his office.  "...You have my utmost condolences, Wingdings," he said quietly.  "But judging from your expression, you wish to get down to brass tacks."_

_"You are correct," Gaster said, seating himself and holding Papyrus to him closely.  "You may have been friends with my father, but it does not mean I shared the same sentiment with him.  But as one of the last few Skeletons left...I understand my duty."_

_Nightly took out a black lock box and opened it, settling several papers down thoughtfully.  "...your father visited me weeks ago, to update his will," he said quietly.  "It was somewhat of a surprise for me for him to do so out of nowhere, but...I complied nonetheless."  He unfolded a sheet of paper and handed it to Gaster.  "...As dictated three weeks, four days ago, Lord Times New Roman Gaster, Head of the Gaster Skeleton Clan, upon his death, would bequeath his title and inheritance to his grandson, Lord Papyrus Gaster."_

_Gaster's hand trembled as he read through the paper; there, in pitch-black ink, was the proclamation.  The Title of Lord Gaster was not to go to him, but to PAPYRUS.  It was not quite so surprising, considering he didn't want the title anyway, but then again he never thought that the eradication of the Skeletons would occur and leave Papyrus with EVERYTHING._

_It was not just a title; much like the mantle of King, titles like this all had to do with what culminated their being in the first place--magic.  Magical intent was EVERYTHING to old traditions like this.  The entire Gaster family had something that bound them together, making them instantly recognizable by magical signature alone, and marrying into another powerful family like the Mystics would combine that magic into the family, but mostly into the heir of both sides--namely, Gaster himself._

_Gaster had married Marcelle of the Scripts, whose magics were not as powerful as the Sight that granted the Mystics, but Scripts had power in WORDS.  They were charmers by nature, using flattery and speech to hone their own magics.  In such a way, they rarely proclaimed anything unless it was MEANT, which made his marriage to Marcelle all the more tricky in his life; their vows were SPOKEN, and until death, could not be broken._

_The title of Lord or Lady in a family meant that one had control of ALL magic that connected the families--complete and absolute control.  With one command, T.N.R. could have wrenched his own son's dreams of science away, but even Gaster knew his father was not THAT cruel._

_But NOW....Papyrus was the Lord of the Gasters; possibly even the intended heir to the Script Lordship, considering he was the last descendant of them as well._

_"...why would he DO this...?" Gaster hissed through his teeth, his fingers clenching into the paper.  "...why would he put that burden on an INFANT?  He is far too young to have a Lordship without guidance!  I was not even given guidance to inherit this even if I WANTED to!"_

_"I do not know, Wingdings," Nightly replied, folding his talons together onto his desk.  "...a new era of Monsters has begun now.  As old as I am, even I know that old traditions and times must change.  He is of the first generation of Monsters to be born into this new era, and must find a new way to adapt accordingly.  But he will need guidance for THAT.  When the time comes, he will figure out a way to deal with the Lordship himself.  And as few Skeletons that are left...it may very well die with him, if he so chooses it to."_

_He sat back in his chair.  "It may seem indelicate to say, but just focus on raising him well, Wingdings.  Power of this sort will find its own way to manifest, but like everything else, it will all be of his intention."_

_Gaster let out a heavy breath, folding the paper back up and slipping it into his pocket before standing with Papyrus.  "Thank you, Nightly," he said quietly.  "I will think on this matter.  Goodbye."  He left the Bird Monster's office, silently heading back to the castle to check up on Sans._

_En route, he ran into Asgore, who looked as though he was shouldering almost all of the blame for what had transpired on his own shoulders, bowing his head deeply to Gaster.  "...I cannot hope to even begin making this right," he said lowly.  "Nothing can undo this, Dr. Gaster...and I cannot apologize enough for that."_

_Gaster stood there in silence, his hold on Papyrus tightening fractionally before he lifted his head, his eyelights glowing an ominous dark purple.  "...I know of a way it can BEGIN," he replied.  "This transpired against MY kind, and I want to choose the manner of execution."_

_Asgore looked up, partly agreeable and apprehensive.  "...of course," he replied.  "In what manner do you wish?"_

_Gaster's expression shifted into a smile that sent coldness through Asgore's body._

_"...my department is going to need test subjects."_


	17. Chapter 17

Gaster had a bit of trouble getting enough time to get ready for his vacation with Sans, but he knew that shopping for it would have been IMPOSSIBLE...had it not been for Papyrus volunteering to help.

The younger Skeleton arrived at the labs in his red convertible and told Gaster to get in, they were going shopping.  Gaster didn't quite get the obvious meme--although Alphys obviously did, what with her hysterical snorting--but he got into the car and prayed his son wasn't as enthusiastic a driver as he was a chef.

Lucky for him, Papyrus was a model driver who obeyed every minute traffic law and could parallel park like a genius.  The parking being that Papyrus didn't trust parking lots in front of busy shopping centers, and he enjoyed the walk anyway.  Gaster allowed the quirk in stride, the weather being nice enough for the walk to the shopping center, and he allowed himself some time to think as he walked.

This was...nice.  Being out with Papyrus and being comfortable with it.  Like a casual father-son outing he had somewhat longed for but could never bring himself to have.  He still hadn't even thought of a good time to tell Papyrus the truth about his origins, and he was starting to think he never would.  Despite everything, Papyrus had lived a good, happy life with Sans and he would hate to be the one to taint that happiness in any way.  Having a slow-burning friendship was enough, and more than he could hope for now.

It was with that in mind that, despite his nervousness around most humans outside of the lab, he allowed Papyrus to practically drag him around a clothing department for new clothes.

There was a slight niggling at his mind again, that something wasn't quite...RIGHT.  The slight sparks that seemed to quiver over his bones whenever Papyrus held his arm, touched his shoulder, led him by the back, pressed up close to hold up an article of clothing; all things he was desperately trying to ignore for his own sake and tell himself that it was NOTHING.  According to, well, EVERYONE, Papyrus was very handsy and physical with pretty much everyone.  It was part of his outgoing charm that Gaster felt he had to tolerate.

....but it WAS tolerable.  Very much so.  It was COMFORTABLE with Papyrus, being with him, enjoying this outing, trying on clothes, and just...being here.  It was wonderful being with Papyrus like this and getting to know him and see him on levels outside of home.  Papyrus was so very much an outgoing people-person, much like his mother had been.  His smile was infectious and seemed to put even the wariest of humans at ease, and he seemed to be a natural at casual flirting with the store staff in order to get better service.

It was fascinating to watch, finally seeing clear connections that Papyrus had with his parents.  Gaster heard from Sans that Papyrus had a few of Gaster's quirks as well; such as their hands being comparable to mood rings--wringing when nervous or flailing when excited--the way they walked with perfectly straight postures, and Gaster noticed all this time that despite most of his life being spent in Snowdin--a predominantly Southern Capitol-folk place--Papyrus had a North Capitol accent.

Gaster quietly buttoned up a silk shirt as he took a breather, contemplating his reflection and hardly believing it was real.  He had been aware of how decrepit he had been in the Void; being that omniscient even had him seeing HIMSELF, in all his disgustingly twisted glory.  But now...he was whole, and complete...in more ways than one.  He had Sans.  He had his son.  He had HIMSELF.  And he was going to have the relationships to mend all of those pieces together, at last.

"Doctor, you've been in here for awhile!" Papyrus said, snapping him out of his thoughts as Papyrus poked his head into the changing room.  Purple dusted his cheekbones as he turned from the mirror.

"I was just in thought," he replied.  "It happens."

"I'm aware," Papyrus said, stepping inside and reaching out to adjust the collar of Gaster's shirt.  "Sans spaces out too sometimes.  But it's no excuse to be as slovenly-dressed as him."  He smiled, patting Gaster's chest.  "There.  How handsome you look."

Gaster smiled despite himself.  "Thank you," he replied.  "...for everything today, Papyrus.  Really.  It was very kind of you to take me shopping."

"Not at all!" Papyrus exclaimed.  "You are much like me, having too fine a bone structure to let it go to waste in those boxy lab clothes!  You have...oh, what was it Mettaton said...'legs for days'!  Show them off!"  He grinned at Gaster's deepened blush.  "It's quite difficult to say, as devilishly handsome as I am, but you may have me beat in the way of pleasing aesthetics!"

Gaster felt something of a twinge of pride; it was nothing new that by Skeleton standards he had been incredibly desirable in the way of looks, but he hadn't really been reminded of the fact in a very long time.  Had the species not been gone, he was positive that Papyrus might have had many marriage proposals and not just for his lineage.  Papyrus did indeed have the Gaster aesthetics and come a few more decades, he would be the spitting image of his grandfather Times New Roman.  The fact wasn't as terrible as he thought it would be, come to find.  He wished Papyrus all the luck in the world in finding love.

"...oh, I don't think I could compete with you in handsomeness, Papyrus," he replied in good nature.  "You simply have me beat."

Papyrus grinned, giving Gaster's shoulder--what he assumed--a comforting rub.  "No need to be so hard on yourself, Doctor," he said.  "Not everyone can be as great as the Great Papyrus."  The two shared a laugh and Gaster resumed his clothes shopping, picking out a few nice outfits and paying for them before heading home with Papyrus.

"This was nice," Gaster said, leaning back in his seat.  Papyrus nodded, keeping his eyelights on the road.

"It was," he replied.  "But you must be tired, Doctor, being out and about like this.  You look like you could use a nap."

Gaster DID feel rather tired all of a sudden, now that he thought about it.  He let out a sigh, watching the trees go by out the window and went quiet the rest of the way home.  When Papyrus parked, the younger Skeleton grabbed the bags from the backseat.  "You go and take your nap, Doctor," he insisted.  "I'll take care of these."

"Oh...thank you, Papyrus," Gaster said, smiling as he headed into the house and walked upstairs for that nap.  He didn't see Papyrus's sharpened eyelights following his every move, tiredness being the only thing he felt at the moment.

* * *

 

Sans and Gaster could hardly believe that the time was FINALLY here.  It did take more time packing than it did getting there--they could both teleport, after all--but seeing the private beach house swathed in the evening glow of the sun really cemented that they were there.  The beach house belonged to Mettaton, but the entertainer lent it to Sans for the week as a personal favor.  It was quiet, out of the way, and overlooked the beautiful ocean with an open skylight and a large, comfy bed in the bedroom.

Both Skeletons spared few glances at the bed as they put their things away; they wanted this, but they wanted to do it RIGHT.  Even so, Sans already had ambiance-building plans that Gaster was more than happy to indulge in.  It was mostly walking along the beach hand-in-hand, but Gaster didn't mind that at all.  Looking out over the seemingly endless ocean was...comforting.  It reminded him of the Void, but in a good way; the way that made him feel secure and at home. 

After a long walk, Sans led the way back to the beach house where he set up a nice dinner for the two of them.  Gaster greatly appreciated the gesture, and liked that there wasn't a lot of talking the two needed to do to properly enjoy it.  The food, the ambiance, the company...it was enough for the two of them.

....for now.

Sans insisted on Gaster relaxing while he cleaned up, leaving the taller Skeleton to stand out on the house deck and look out over the moon-lit ocean.  Gaster inhaled the sweet, salty air, enjoying the feel of the breeze on his bones.  He could never have imagined this long ago, being out here on the Surface and breathing in as much fresh air as he was able to, seeing things he once only saw in books or movies.  It was like a miracle being here, and even better that he was here with Sans.

Arms circling around him pulled him back to reality, smiling as he lowered his hands from the deck railing to touch Sans's arms, feeling his smaller lover nuzzling his spine from behind.  "Y'look so beautiful in moonlight, Wingdings," Sans murmured.  "Almost like yer glowin'."

"...Sans..."  Gaster's cheekbones went purple as Sans stroked his hands over Gaster's front, lightly tracing phalanges over the bone indentions underneath the shirt. 

"I mean it, Wingdings," Sans said.  "Yer beautiful.  Never saw a more beautiful Skeleton in my life, an' I never will again."  He stepped back, his hold on Gaster having the taller Skeleton follow him as he led the way back into the house.  Gaster smiled, his soul fluttering strongly as he turned in Sans's hold and leaned down, kissing lightly over Sans's skull.  Sans growled in response, lightly pushing Gaster back onto the bed without breaking contact and pressed their teeth together.  Gaster purred, forming a tongue and curling it around Sans's, his arms holding Sans to him tightly.

Sans broke their kiss a few moments later, dragging his tongue and scraping his teeth over Gaster's neck bones and clavicle, undoing Gaster's shirt button by button teasingly slow.  Gaster reached down to help, only to gently have his hands pushed away.

"This is for you, 'Dings," Sans purred, his voice hitting that deep, husky pitch that made Gaster's bones quake.  "It's yer vacation, you just lie back an' enjoy."  He resumed unbuttoning the shirt, pressing kisses to the bones that became exposed along the way.  Gaster relaxed back as instructed, letting out a heavy, contented sigh as he felt Sans's hands and teeth go lower, past his sternum, past his ribs, over his exposed spine...only to pause at his pants.  Gaster squirmed for a moment before looking down, seeing that Sans had paused on purpose and was waiting patiently for permission to continue. 

Gaster gave Sans a smile, lifting his hips off the bed in a gesture of permission, and Sans wasted no time in undoing the pants and sliding them off, leaving Gaster almost completely bareboned.  The attention that Sans was giving his body made Gaster more than a little shy again, and not for the first time cursed all that time in the Void that made him so unused to being seen like this.  He could scarcely remember a time when he was so comfortable being under Sans's attentive stare, when he didn't feel so exposed without at least two layers of clothing. 

He reclined back again, focusing on the facts; it was just him and Sans.  Sans thought he was beautiful.  Sans wouldn't hurt him, he would make him feel amazing again.  This was THEIR time, where they would be getting to know each other intimately again, and then it would all fall into place again.  He had nothing to worry about.

Hands brushing against his bare bones clicked something of a shutdown button in his mind, relaxing back completely.  He felt like every care in the world was vanishing under those gentle hands, his magic coalescing in his pelvis in response to the wonderful stimuli.  Words were being spoken, but he could hardly make them out through the haze of pleasure that clouded his mind.  He WANTED hands on him.  He WANTED his magic touched and played with and--

A low moan escaped him when fingers pressed against his magic, which pushed it to quickly form his tendril-like appendage that curled around a hand while the other stroked and prodded around a constructed entrance.  His magic was READY, and he could hardly take it anymore.  "Oh gods, please...!" he found himself murmuring, his bones flushed purple as he grasped at the sheets under him.  He heard a faint chuckling, his tendril being stroked and lightly squeezed teasingly.

"Patience, Doc," Sans said, his eyelights glowing brightly at the display beneath him, his own magic practically screaming at him to TAKE.  MATE.  And he wasn't keen on ignoring it any longer.  Not when he had both visual and verbal permission.  He took his hands off of Gaster just long enough to tug his own clothes off and toss them haphazardly to the side, parting Gaster's femurs wider before settling himself between the taller Skeleton's legs, his soul pounding in his rib cage as he pressed his own sex construct against Gaster and pushed into the ectoplasmic opening.

Gaster's hips arched hard, pushing Sans deeper into his magic, a loud keening resonating through the room that mixed with Sans's low growling beautifully, purple and blue glows from their souls filling the darkness like twin fires.  Sans's hands gripped Gaster's femurs tightly, his whole frame rattling as his magic burned like electricity, the only thought in his head being _FINALLY_.  YEARS of being alone and desperately wishing for this miracle that was Gaster's love to return finally caught up with him, and he was DONE waiting.

Sans kept his eyelights on Gaster as he drove into the taller Skeleton hard, feeling of love and lust and possession washing over every bone in his body as he watched Gaster squirm and arch under him.  His hands reached out and touched at every bone he could find, feeling more sparks of magic under his hands that Gaster was giving off, not believing that they had waited THIS long to have this again.  "I love you, Wingdings...!" he growled, clenching a hand around Gaster's spine, reveling in the loud moan that he wrenched from the taller Skeleton.  "I love you so fuckin' much...!"

Gaster's teeth ground tightly, feeling his magic seep out around his spine, unable to keep those tendrils from forming and not WANTING to.  His mind was going blank, fighting against his consciousness to make a coherent thought.  "GODS--!"

"Yer mine, Wingdings!"  Hands on his ribs.  "I want you so much!"  Clenching around his spine.  "So beautiful!"  Stroking his face.  "Be mine, say yer mine!"

"Y-yours...!"

_Brushing over his neck bones._

"Say yer MINE!"

_Kissing over his skull._

"YOURS--!"

"Say you want me!"

_A sharp jolt of pleasure rushing into his pelvis--_

"I- _AH_ \--I want it--!"

_He wanted it._

"Oh gods, Wingdings--!"

_He wanted--_

"PAPYRUS!"

Gaster's vision went both blinding white and pitch black as an orgasm ripped through his body and soul, leaving him with a buzzing numbness for an unknown amount of time before his coherence returned to him and he realized what he had said.  A hand slapped over his teeth, his body shaking as his eyelights shakily searched for Sans, seeing the smaller Skeleton sitting between his legs looking.......there wasn't even a word to describe it.

Gaster felt a sudden rush of nausea, scrambling out of the bed and into the bathroom, barely making it in time before he began retching magic residue, his whole body shaking violently, somehow managing to feel violated without knowing HOW or WHY. 

Papyrus. 

How.

HOW had he managed to think of PAPYRUS at a time like THAT!?  HOW HAD HE MANAGED TO THINK ABOUT HIS SON WHILE HAVING SEX WITH SANS!?

He vomited up another burning mass of magic, sobbing as he leaned his body against the toilet, feeling so much shame and disgust that it physically HURT.  He didn't even notice when Sans came into the bathroom moments later, and didn't feel worthy of the touch the smaller Skeleton had when Sans pulled him into a hug.  He felt dirty, disgusting, VIOLATED, and didn't want Sans to be the same.

But he couldn't move, couldn't pull away.  He could only lean against Sans and cry.

* * *

 

_The testing was going well._

_He had wanted to test his machine that would venture into the Void, but it was dangerous.  He was no fool; he wouldn't want to risk the lives of his team just to make sure his theories were correct.  But a living test subject was needed if this was to work._

_Using the lives given to him by the ones who destroyed his species was a gift from the gods.  For once, he didn't feel any guilt whatsoever about testing the machine, not even when all that came back was dust, if EVEN that.  
_

_He would see the cringing from his fellow scientists, the unspoken pleading in their eyes for MERCY, but he would have NOTHING of it.  They didn't understand.  They didn't walk down streets, seeing piles of dust belonging to their species, didn't see a child of their species dust before their eyes.  They didn't have to wake up with the knowledge that they were one out of only three left._

_So he ignored their looks for MERCY.  He ignored the pleas the test subjects wailed at him that became nothing more than annoying white noise, soon to be silenced.  Monster after Monster came and went, their executions bringing him one step closer to making this machine WORK._

_Passing through the coding of time and space...it was at first to be used as a means to possibly leave the Underground, but his priorities shifted drastically after the genocide of his species.  If he could make this work...if he could finally have the coding of the universe deciphered and in his hands...he could rewrite time and keep it from happening in the first place.  He could go back and stop the slaughter, the hurt, the pain...  
_

_....he could make Sans smile again._

_His lover never smiled anymore.  He was so lethargic and listless, could barely crawl out of bed in the morning.  He barely ate.  He rarely spoke.  And it was breaking Gaster's heart more than it already was, only strengthening his conviction to see those BEASTS suffer for what they did._

_He worked harder.  He delved into his research, began decoding the Void bit by bit, sending condemned after condemned into the Void--_

_\--and one day, the Monster he sent in returned ALIVE._

_He was even CONSCIOUS.  Incoherent from a no-doubt traumatizing experience, but he was ALIVE._

_Gaster had him locked in a room for the interim as he began working through the coding furiously so he could recreate it, so he could go in himself and hold the code in his hands, bend it to his will._

_He voiced his excitement to his team, who, to his surprise, finally put their collective foot down.  They refused to lose him if there was ANY mark of error and even threatened to quit entirely if he went if they weren't 100% CERTAIN of what was in the Void._

_Instead, Sans volunteered._

_Sans showed more conviction in this than he had in the past several weeks since the incident, and Gaster was loathe to let Sans delve back into apathy.  Sans even said, best case scenario, they find what they've worked for; worst case, he requested his dust be spread over his old house with the rest of his family's.  He said it with a morbid smile, but Gaster wasn't amused._

_He checked, double-checked, and triple-checked his calculations to make SURE there would be nothing wrong before he even allowed Sans near the machine.  And it was with two more of their best physicists on standby that Gaster helped Sans into the machine, settling him in and letting his hands linger on Sans's shoulders.  "...come back to me," he said softly, resting his skull against Sans's.  "...please, come back to me."_

_Sans nodded, squeezing Gaster's arm.  "...I will," he replied, giving Gaster a smile before settling back.  Gaster forced himself to step back and close the machine door, walking back to the panel and taking a deep breath before putting in his calculations and starting it up._

**_It's_ _fine_ ** _, he thought firmly as everything began running just as he anticipated. **It's fine it's fine Sans will be fine we'll be fine--**_

_"STOP!"_

_Everyone jumped and turned around when Alphys came sprinting in, looking pale and panicked.  "YOU HAVE TO STOP!  HE'S DEAD!"_

_"What!?"  Gaster practically snatched her up.  "WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"_

_"HE'S DEAD!" Alphys wailed.  "I SAW HIM!  HE BEGAN SCREAMING AND HE CLAWED HIS EYES OUT AND HE DUSTED RIGHT THERE ON THE BED--!"_

_Gaster dropped Alphys and ran to the machine, the other physicists barely managing to hold him back before he could get to it.  "LET ME GO!" he screamed, thrashing in their holds.  "LET ME GO!  SANS!  SANS!"  His eyelights shrunk to nothing when the machine began to spark._

_"SAAAAAAAAAAANS!"_


	18. Chapter 18

_It was twelve days later, and a MIRACLE that Sans was alive._

_Gaster had been inconsolable the entire time, lashing out at anyone who came near him or Sans, using his own magic and aura to keep Sans stable, to keep him ALIVE.  GODS, seeing Sans come out of that machine with grey bones, a panicked, dying soul, only one HP..._

_He took it upon himself to heal Sans, to bring his lover back from the precipice of death, and it was an endless, tireless battle.  Not once did he break physical contact with Sans, feeding his aura into Sans's soul 24/7 until FINALLY, Sans's soul stopped flickering and the smaller Skeleton was resting quietly.  Sans's bones lost the grey color, his own aura developing its unique blue glow, and his soul stabilizing at last._

_It was when that happened that Gaster FINALLY allowed the Royal Healers to look at Sans while he was begged to rest, lest his own soul flicker out.  Gaster was absolutely loathed to, but he compromised, lying back in a bed next to Sans's and sleeping while Sans was checked over._

_Everything was an exhausting blur, and finally Gaster was rested enough to know the prognosis._

_Sans's condition was similar to a Monster having fallen down, but the readings showed that Sans was only unconscious with a hopeful prospect of waking soon.  His body was healing, his soul was stablizing...however..._

_Sans's HP was one.  And it was STAYING one._

_Gaster looked at the soul readings himself, and felt his own soul drop like lead when he saw the crippling effects his experiment had caused Sans, to see that handicap that after days of looking over, would not be able to be fixed.  One wrong move, one blow, would end Sans's life._

_...and it was all his fault._

_The Head Royal Scientist stood in front of his machine, the device that would have replaced the Core as his magnum opus, the creation that was tainted with the dust of Monsters and had almost taken his love away.  A machine that had been built with his own two hands...born from his own mind and vision..._

_He did this to Sans._

_This was HIS fault._

_Gaster clenched his hands tightly, his eyelights flaring with purple fire as he grabbed the paneling and wrenched it out, tossing it to the side before summoning a large bone into his hand and bashing at everything he could see, over and over and over again, making SURE that could never work again, that it could NEVER HURT SANS AGAIN.  
_

_By the time it was over, he stood in the middle of shattered pieces of metal and wiring, his creation unrecognizable.  His hand shook as it clenched around the bone, his breathing ragged and beastly, terrifying the interns who had run in to see what the noise was about.  Their terror only intensified when Gaster turned and glared at them, his eye sockets now void of any light and looking darker than the Void._

_"...throw it into the Core," he said, dispelling the bone from his hand and walking away from the mess, the interns and scientists parting to give him a wide berth as he walked out of the lab and back to the med bay, everyone feeling as though their very breath was being stolen by the Voidlike creature that had once been their leader._

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Despite the Surface having a rising and setting of the Sun to tell the time, there was no real way for Gaster to measure the time still spent in the beach house.  He only had miniature eras to go by; the Good Time, and the Bad.  And the Bad seemed to stretch on for infinity in a way that made the Void seem like a casual vacation.  It could have been the whole week or just a day, but Gaster didn't know, and he didn't care.

All he could think about was screaming his son's name mid-orgasm, and the look on Sans's face after.  And every time he thought about it, he grew ill and his body rebelled, refusing to move and flinching at touch.

There was no logical reason behind this.  There was NO reason he could think of that justified screaming his SON'S NAME while having sex with Sans, and that tore him to pieces over and over again until it hurt to move. 

The worst part...the absolute WORST part...was that Sans stayed with him the whole time. 

It made Gaster feel terrible.  Sans shouldn't want to even LOOK at him after what had happened.  He wanted to say so, but...he couldn't.  He couldn't even bring himself to look at Sans, terrified that he would see THAT look on the Skeleton's face again.  His soul couldn't handle that, not again.  But Sans stayed.  He brought Gaster food, petted his skull, just stayed by him...

...but neither spoke a word to each other.

Gaster didn't trust himself to speak.  He COULDN'T, after the last word he spoke.  It was a silent agreement between them, and both knew that despite having the beach house for the week...the vacation was over.  There was nothing that they could do to salvage it.  Talking it out was going to have to wait until they both were ready, and when Gaster had SOME form of excuse for having said Papyrus's name.

Alas, Gaster had no excuse, and the silence dragged on.

Late into the week, Gaster stood out on the deck, looking out over the dark ocean, the moon behind clouds and casting no light and shrouding him in darkness that felt so wonderful and at home that for a moment, he prayed for the sanctuary of what was once his personal Hell and prison.  There was nothing in the Void that hurt him.  Nothing he could do to hurt himself, or others.  In the Void...he could scarcely feel anything.

He briefly glanced back inside the house, seeing Sans curled up on the couch asleep, feeling a pang in his soul that stung.  This was supposed to be a wonderful week for themselves, to finally reconnect and solidify their relationship.  Instead, Sans hadn't gone anywhere near the bed and Gaster's last nap had been in the closet swaddled in as many blankets as he could find. 

It wasn't right.  NONE of this was right. 

He let out a heavy sigh, his fingers twitching with all of his pent-up emotion, needing to talk, scream, rant--SOMETHING other than silence.  Clenching his hands, he walked back into the house and shut the door, grabbing a sheet and settling it over Sans before stepping back and teleporting to the only person he could trust to talk to.

* * *

 

Grillby was closing up for the night, tidying up his bar area and going to lock the door and nearly jumped back when a tall Skeleton Monster who hadn't been there half a second ago suddenly appeared on the other side of the door and looked in almost pleadingly.  He frowned, opening the door and looking up at Gaster.  "Wingdings?  What are you doing here?" he asked.  "Weren't you on vacation with Sans?"

Gaster winced, his arms crossing over his body to hold himself.  "...we were..." he said softly.  "...but...something happened....and....I just need SOMEONE to talk to...who wont judge me..." 

The Flame Monster took in the defeated image for less than a second before stepping aside and letting Gaster in, shutting and locking the door behind him.  "What happened?" he asked, leading Gaster to the back, sitting them both down at a table.  Gaster was silent for several long minutes before his expression nearly crumbled, burying his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with dry sobbing.

"...I....I fucked up...!" he stammered, his voice haunted.  "...I did...the unforgivable...and....and Sans....oh GODS, Sans....!"

"Hey, easy..." Grillby said, putting a comforting hand on Gaster's shoulder.  "...it's alright.  Just tell me.  Like you said, I won't judge you.  It's okay."  He squeezed Gaster's shoulder, watching the Skeleton Monster take several shaky breaths before exhaling and nearly collapsing onto the table.  After a couple of minutes, Gaster lifted his head, rubbing his face hard.

"...I don't know how it happened..." he said, his voice barely above a whisper but it seemed to echo through the room.  "I...Sans and I were....we were together..."  His voice was wistful, yet agonized.  "It was just us, and we were finally together...and I felt..."  A hand absently brushed over his cheekbone as though recreating a memory that wasn't quite THERE.  "...I felt like I was dreaming....I was thinking of Sans, but...I felt....."  He lowered his hand, looking vaguely ill.  "...I......I didn't...."  Color drained from his skull, and Grillby put his hand back on Gaster's shoulder to ground him.

"...you what?" Grillby asked softly.  Gaster let out a sickened sob, pressing his hand to his teeth.

"...I said...Papyrus...."

"...what."

Gaster's hands shook, his eyelights almost pained and panicked.  "....I said Papyrus's name...!" he choked.  "Sans was THERE and I screamed out Papyrus's name as I orgasmed!"  He slammed his hands to the table before burying his face in his arms.  "What kind of sick person AM I!?"

Grillby was almost dead silent, enough so that Gaster began to notice and lifted his head slightly, daring a glance at the Flame Monster.  ".....please....please, don't judge me for this Grillby, PLEASE, I can't stand it as it is--"

"No," Grillby said, putting his hand on Gaster's back.  "...no, it...it wasn't...."  He reached up with his free hand, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.  "...I'm just........trying to figure this out..."  He went contemplatively silent for a bit.  "...do you...have any reason you might have...?"  Gaster's cheekbones dusted light purple as he rubbed his eye sockets.

"I...I don't know..." he muttered.  "I don't, I.....I just.....we've been spending more time together...and it's been nice..."  He frowned.  "...but strange."

"...strange how?"  Grillby's voice was oddly hollow.

"Strange like....how I was practically frightened of his touch one day...and the next I felt so much BETTER..."

"...why were you frightened?"

Gaster rubbed his face hard.  "...we went out for dinner...just for me to get to know him, but he...thought it was DIFFERENT.  He...I was more than a little tipsy, and he...touched me and then he KISSED me, and then--"  He jumped when Grillby sat back so sharply Gaster thought he heard a crack, looking up and seeing Grillby's fire having a duller blaze, down to the point where Grillby could see the Flame Monster's terrified, stricken expression.  "...Grillby--"

"Did he ever touch you again after?" Grillby asked, the hollowness ringing even further.  "...anything...off like that?  Just answer."

"He...well, Sans said it was just fidgeting, but he stroked my leg with his foot for nearly a half hour...and he seemed to be more affectionate--"  He jumped again when Grillby shot out of his chair and began pacing, his aura expelling massive amounts of barely-contained panic, anger, FEAR.  "Grillby, what's wrong?"

Grillby said nothing for several minutes as he paced, a visible battle between two decisions flickering over his expression the whole time.  Finally, the battle was over and his posture went slumped and heavy as he walked over to the shelf and grabbed a bottle, cracking it open and tipping it back before silently walking back over to the table and sitting down, looking decades older and worse for wear after simply a mental skirmish.  Gaster's hands wrung tightly as he took the image in, not liking the sense of impending doom that now filled the room.

"...Grillby?"

More silence, and then Grillby let out a sigh that made the temperature around the table several degrees warmer.  "...I...have to tell you something..." he finally said, his voice crackling like a dying fire.  "...I have never spoken of this in my life...and what I tell you...you can NOT tell Sans...and do not EVER mention it to Papyrus...or anyone...do you understand me?"  The urgency in his voice paired with the paranoid look in Grillby's eyes had Gaster nodding with solemness.

And after several long moments of eye(light) contact, Grillby began to speak.

"It was twelve years ago..."


	19. Chapter 19

_Grillby sighed as he tidied up his restaurant, the last of his customers having left fifteen minutes ago and left him in silence.  He loved his customers, he really did, but he enjoyed the quiet that came after closing.  It was rare that he had time to himself to just think, and he took his time cleaning up to enjoy it more.  His kind rarely slept unless it was necessary to replenish HP or if he was ill, but upkeep of his restaurant took up most of his free time._

_He often debated hiring help and his thoughts led to Sans, but he let it drop where it was.  The whole situation THERE was delicate as it was.  He sighed, contemplating a tumbler much like the one Sans had in his hand months ago when the small Skeleton was completely drunk and about to ask for more..._

_...and then Papyrus came in._

_It was late, past the curfew of when minors were banned from the restaurant so the sentries and Guards could drink by themselves, but the young Skeleton had burst in--almost breaking the door in the process--and grabbed Sans off the bar stool, giving Grillby a glower that the Flame Monster could FEEL.  Grillby had never had someone stare at him with such intense HATE before, but that was NOTHING compared to the younger Skeleton's words._

_"YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED!" Papyrus had shouted as he hoisted Sans's arm around his shoulders.  "YOU STAND THERE NIGHT AFTER NIGHT AND LET HIM DRINK HIMSELF INTO STUPIDITY!  YOU KEEP HIM FROM COMING HOME JUST SO YOU CAN TURN A PROFIT, SO HE CAN'T TAKE CARE OF ME!"  The young Skeleton had orange-tinged tears streaming down his cheekbones.  "YOU'RE A DESPICABLE CREATURE!"_

_The restaurant was dead silent as everyone watched Papyrus drag Sans out.  No one touched their drinks for the rest of the night, and Sans had been scarce for several days after._

_Grillby felt a heavy, sour rush of guilt the next time he saw Sans.  He liked the Skeleton, he really did, but he wasn't going to judge someone based on their vices.  If they could pay, he provided what they wanted, and even made sure they were taken care of if they couldn't make it home.  But Sans was different.  Sans had a little brother to look after, and a drinking problem wasn't going to help that._

_Sans returned to his restaurant a week later, sobered up and a little shaky, and instead ordered up some ketchup to drink.  Grillby made his own that had a strong kick to it, and Sans began using that to placebo for his alcohol intake.  After a bottle of it, Sans quietly apologized for Papyrus's outburst, but made it clear that HE was to blame._

_"I let it get outta control," Sans said, rubbing his face.  "...Paps...he needs me, an'...I was runnin' away from th' responsibility.  I've never seen him so upset before...an' I'm sorry I put you in th' middle of it."_

_"...it's alright, Grillby replied.  "I didn't help by exacerbating it, but...it's alright.  Really."  He hesitated before putting a hand on Sans's arm.  "...are you alright though?"_

_Sans looked between Grillby and the hand on his arm, his cheekbones tinging slightly blue._

_"...I will be."_

_***_

_Grillby didn't know when exactly they had begun dating, but Sans began stopping by after closing and after Papyrus was put to bed after his shifts, and they just talked.  Sometimes Sans went silent, and Grillby stuck with him through that silence, offering a comforting hand or an arm._

_And one night, Sans broke out of his silent spell, leaned up, and pressed his teeth to Grillby's face._

_It was...surprising, to say the least, but not SO much.  Grillby felt the attraction between them, he had for months now, and he was more than happy to offer comfort to whatever demons Sans had.  But they took it slow, taking time to figure out how it could work between them, and one night, after Sans had put Papyrus to bed, Grillby took Sans up to his apartment and took his time making sure Sans was comfortable before making love to him.  
_

_Sans cried when it was over, but he kept thanking Grillby for it and was all smiles when he got dressed.  Grillby noticed that Sans literally did look like a weight was pulled from his shoulders.  Despite the tears from earlier, it made Grillby smile, pulling Sans in for another kiss before Sans left for home._

_That was weeks ago, and he could feel a real budding relationship between him and Sans, and the thought warmed his soul more than his actual body did.  He liked Sans, and he really wanted to be with him.  But Sans came in a double package, and Papyrus already didn't have the best idea of him.  He made a mental note to work on that, maybe score in some brownie points with Papyrus._

_Grillby shook himself out of his memories, putting the tumbler away and picked up some napkins to go take to the wash when the door's bell jingled as it opened.  It was odd; Monsters in Snowdin knew when his establishment was closed, and the only one who came after hours was Sans.  He turned to greet Sans, his words dying in his mouth when he saw who was there._

_It was a Skeleton, but it wasn't Sans._

_Papyrus looked around quietly until his gaze landed on Grillby, his expression unreadable.  Grillby swallowed hard, not expecting THIS as he put the napkins down and gave Papyrus his full attention.  "...It's very late, Papyrus," he said quietly.  "Why are you here?"_

_"...Is Sans here?" Papyrus asked, his voice a little hard.  "He's not at home."  Grillby blinked before sighing; Sans had taken a later shift at the sentry station, which was why he wasn't at the restaurant tonight._

_"No, he's working a later shift tonight," he replied.  "I suppose he forgot to tell you, or didn't know that you'd be waking up so soon."_

_"You sure he's not here?" Papyrus asked, looking around again.  "...he's almost ALWAYS here."  It sounded almost accusing, and Grillby felt guilty again.  He didn't want to start this again with Papyrus, and quietly sighed, stepping around the counter._

_"I promise, he's not here," he said gently.  "He took a later shift, and he was going right home after."  He glanced at the clock.  "In any case, it's very late, and he should be getting off his shift soon."_

_Papyrus looked behind him at the snow, crossing his arms over his body.  "...can I wait here?" he asked.  "I KNOW Sans will stop by...and I HATE being in an empty house."_

_Grillby sighed softly, feeling bad now.  Papyrus waking up and finding himself alone must've been hard, but to go out into the cold at this time of night was another.  He couldn't in good conscience send Papyrus back out into the snow alone, and Sans MIGHT stop by, for a snack if anything.  He looked around for a moment before conceding.  "Alright," he said.  "Make yourself comfortable."  He turned around, looking for something to feed Papyrus; he might as well, if the boy was here.  He slipped to the back and made up a milkshake, recalling Sans telling him that Papyrus was a milk fanatic, and walked back out, setting it down in front of the young Skeleton.  "Here, on the house."_

_Papyrus looked between Grillby and the milkshake for a moment before taking it and sipping it quietly, holding the straw delicately between his thumb and index finger with an odd delicacy that Grillby didn't often see in this area.  Grillby had been around the elite in his youth, and from observation, Papyrus embodied much of their mannerisms.  It was such a stark contrast to Sans, who did NOTHING worthy of the term 'class', it was hard to believe the two were brothers._

_"...are you alright?" he asked, sitting himself down across from Papyrus.  "Did you...have a nightmare, or did something wake you...?  You...must've been desperate if you came out this late, out in the cold."  He watched Papyrus shrug a little before leaning back, eyelights trailing over the restaurant before landing on Grillby, and Grillby suddenly felt...cold.  Cold and oddly violated for some reason.  He shifted in place, very uncomfortable, and tried not to let it show._

_"...you're right, Grillby," Papyrus said, his voice oddly flat and sounding like it had aged several years within moments.  "I did come for something."  Grillby watched, almost terrified, as Papyrus's eyelights dimmed until only black eye sockets stared at him._

_"I came to tell you to stay away from my brother."_

_It took Grillby several moments to comprehend what Papyrus had just said, sitting back and staring at the boy in front of him.  "...what?" he asked.  Papyrus's eye sockets seemed to grow darker._

_"Did I stutter?" Papyrus retorted, a hint of a condescending sneer to his voice.  "I SAID to stay away from my brother."   He leaned forward slightly, and Grillby felt another wave of coldness run over him.  "You think I can't see what you're doing?  Getting him drunk, keeping him here, and now you're FUCKING him!"_

_Grillby violently flinched, the description coming out from Papyrus so sharply it was like a stab to the soul.  He floundered for something--ANYTHING--to say, but his mind was too assaulted to properly respond.  Papyrus took another, deliberately longer sip from his milkshake._

_"You're ALL he can talk about anymore," the Skeleton said, his voice dripping with disdain.  "How AMAZING you are, how HAPPY you make him, but I know what you're doing.  And you can't have him.  I REFUSE to lose my brother to the likes of YOU."_

_"N-now hold on!" Grillby finally said, standing out of his seat.  "Nobody is losing ANYONE, Papyrus!  I'm not TAKING Sans away from you!  I'm just giving him a relationship he can't have with you is all!  You have NOTHING to worry about, and there is NO reason for you to be so antagonistic towards me!"  It occurred to him that he was having this conversation with a CHILD, and he simmered down, rubbing his temples.  "...I don't want to make this into something that will be a real problem, Papyrus.  I care about your brother, and I want to care about you too."  
_

_Papyrus was contemplatively silent for several long moments, enough for Grillby to get curious at the silence and look up, seeing the young Skeleton deep in thought.  "...you want to care about me?" Papyrus said, his tone almost...coquettish.  It made Grillby twitch slightly, but the Flame Monster nodded._

_"Yes, I do," he said.  "You are important to Sans, and that would make you important to me too."_

_The Skeleton was quiet for a few moments more before sliding out of his end of the booth and walking to the other side, sliding in next to Grillby and curling his arms around him.  Grillby froze, not expecting THIS, but he felt that it was...progress.  Perhaps he was getting through to Papyrus, finally, he thought as he put his arms around the small form, feeling a warmth in his soul at the contact._

_...too warm._

_HOT._

_His body's flames quivered and began to brighten slightly, unable to move anything except his eyes, looking down and seeing his soul glowing blue through his shirt.  Papyrus had his hand pressed against his chest, a proud little smile gleaming on his face.  "...Sans has been teaching me the family magic," he said conversationally, his eyelights glowing brightly.  "He says I'm getting so good at it."  He shifted so he was straddling Grillby's lap, at eye-level with the Flame Monster.  "I'd be BETTER at it, if I had someone to help me practice.  But I suppose you will have to do."_

_He reached up and grasped Grillby's tie, undoing it with a flick of his wrist and letting it drop.  "Other kids have mothers and fathers," he said, his voice bitter.  "Someone always there for them.  All I have is Sans, and you're taking him away from me."  He grabbed Grillby's shirt and jerked it open, snapping buttons off in the process.  "What does he even SEE in you?  I'm curious, I really am.  WHAT makes you so special that he'd rather come here and be with YOU rather than be at home with ME."_

_"...P...ap...y....rus...!" Grillby choked out, fighting against the blue hold on his soul.  Papyrus paid him no heed, reaching up and touching Grillby's face, the flames licking against his hand harmlessly._

_"...I suppose you're handsome enough," he commented.  "Or perhaps you serve to live Sans's devotion to pun irony in being 'hot'.  But it has to be MORE than that, right?"  His right eyelight glowed bright orange, his jaws opening as a tongue slithered out from between his teeth, leaning in and kissing Grillby hard._

_Grillby's magic burst outward in a fit of panic and terror, breaking free from the blue magic around his soul to lash out and throw Papyrus off of him, hyperventilating as he struggled to simmer down his body before it burned down his establishment.  He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling as though his soul as well as his body had been utterly VIOLATED, the sickening realization that Sans's fourteen-year-old brother had just ASSAULTED him hitting him, and hitting him HARD._

_Papyrus sat up off of the floor, the front of his shirt singed and his bones having slight burning underneath, something he didn't seem bothered about.  "What's the matter, Grillby?" he asked, his eye sockets twin void pits again.  "I thought you LIKED fucking Skeletons."_

_"...you're insane..." Grillby muttered, leaning back from Papyrus.  "You're insane and you need some serious help!  I'm calling Sans right now and--"_

_"And WHAT?"  Papyrus's posture suddenly went closed off and frightened.  "Tell him how you lured his little brother to your restaurant and tried to have your way with him?"  His expression went back to neutral as he sat up straight as Grillby froze in horror.  "Go ahead.  Call him.  We'll see who he believes, if you're SO SURE.  I mean..."  He gestured to his burned clothes and bones, then at Grillby's torn shirt.  "...the evidence speaks for itself, don't you think?"_

_Grillby dropped down in the booth, his body feeling colder than he could ever think possible.  Papyrus stood up, brushing his clothes off.  "Sans is at home, and sleeping soundly," he said.  "I can go home and sneak into my room unnoticed, dispose of these clothes, and heal my burns, and be there to comfort him when you tell him you can't be with him anymore...or I can run out of here screaming bloody murder and have not only Sans, but EVERYONE tear you and your reputation to pieces.  So what's it going to be?"_

_Magma-like tears streamed down Grillby's face, the impossible choice not even a choice at all.  Papyrus nodded to himself.  "That's what I thought," he said, turning to the door and pausing.  "...but since you're not making this more difficult than it has to be...I'll....heh.....'throw you a bone'.  I won't make Sans stop coming here.  After all, a guy needs friends.  But that had best be ALL you are to him.  Understand?"_

_Grillby said nothing, staring into nothing and only deftly hearing the sound of his restaurant door closing before he burst into sobs._


	20. Chapter 20

The restaurant was dead silent after Grillby finished speaking.  The Flame Monster was hunched over, a shaking hand clasping his bottle of liquor and his aura emitting trauma and panic like waves.  Gaster sat back in his seat, staring in horror at his friend and hardly being able to comprehend what he had just been told.

It couldn't be true.  It COULDN'T.  For Papyrus to DO that...to BE that way...it COULDN'T be true.

But looking at Grillby's face...he knew.  A Monster's soul wouldn't be that turmoiled if it wasn't true.

"...that happened..." he said, definitely a statement instead of a question.  "...Papyrus...he did that..."

Grillby nodded miserably, tipping back the bottle again.  "...it did," he replied.  "...I haven't spoken of it since.  I didn't DARE, not when Papyrus had built his reputation as a likeable, innocent Monster in Snowdin."  He took off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes with a mirthless chuckle.  "...the worst part, Wingdings?  For the most part, he IS.  Until you get on his shit list."  His expression was haunted.  "...and then you can kiss your peace of mind goodbye."  He looked at Gaster, full of pity and bitter empathy.  "...and I am so sorry you've gotten yourself mixed up in this as well."

Gaster shook his head slowly, feeling a churning of nausea in his soul.  "...this isn't right..." he murmured to himself.  "It isn't RIGHT...he...he couldn't have done that...not to me..."

"I think he did," Grillby said, leaning on his arms, looking drained.  "...I really hate to say it, but...I think he's done MORE, if it got to the point where you screamed the wrong name mid-coitus."  He sighed.  "...just think...was there anything besides what you think you already experienced he may have done?"

Gaster felt the nausea churn harder, not wanting to open that can of worms for anything...but he knew he had to, if he wanted this to be resolved...if he wanted to know the TRUTH.  He sat back, thinking back, FEELING back--and felt his memory slide back to the unconsciousness that was his senses honed from the Void.

It was something he tried to ignore since is discombobulated his normal senses, but it had its uses.  Using his Void senses, he was able to recall things that would happen around him when he was unconscious or in an invalid state.  It was like seeing things from the perspective he had from the Void--seeing the shapes formed from a Monster's aura, reading their intentions as his family magics granted him.

He forced himself back into the moments before he said Papyrus's name--when he was having touch memory underneath the conscious act of sex with Sans--and the touch began to take form.  He saw hands, outlined in orange aura, _sweeping over his body, his face--_

_\--the aura form of Papyrus, looming over Gaster--_

_\--kissing over Gaster's bones--_

_\--ducking his head between Gaster's femurs--_

_\--sliding on top of Gaster and--_

Gaster let out a wet choking screech, collapsing onto the floor on his hands and knees, retching up a thick tar-like magic residue, his bones feeling like acid was splashed over every spot that was touched.

Touched.

Violated.

By his own SON.

This couldn't be happening.  It couldn't be true.  But the crawling, violated sting on his bones told him that it WAS.  He retched up another wave of residue, absently aware of gentle, warm hands supporting him from falling face-first into the mess, and clung desperately to the support, grounding him into returning from his Void senses.  And he wept bitterly, painfully, HELPLESSLY into Grillby's shoulder.

He wanted to wake up from this nightmare, where nothing was right and everything was horribly wrong.  But no such salvation came.  And long after he cried himself out, the only conscious thought was how badly he wanted a cigarette right now. 

As though hearing his thoughts, Grillby quietly sat back against the bar and fished out a pack, handing them over.  "...I've seen that expression on Sans's face too many times," he commented quietly.  "If anything, just something to focus on."  Gaster took one with shaking fingers, allowing the Flame Monster to light it up before taking a drag, deftly noticing that this was a particularly strong blend not meant for normal indulging.  He took several deep drags before dropping his head back against the bar, feeling the uncomfortable stickiness of his tried tears itch at his face, but couldn't find the will to wipe it away.

"...what did Sans tell you about his history with Papyrus?" he asked numbly, noticing Grillby's form flicker slightly at the unexpectedness of the question.  Grillby leaned back, looking across his restaurant quietly. 

"...when he first came, he told me that he and his brother were survivors of the Skeleton genocide," he replied.  "He'd been taking care of Papyrus all by himself since their parents died...that he didn't really know what he was doing...it just seemed like he needed a friend when he came to Snowin, and I tried to be that friend..."  He trailed off when Gaster let out soft, mirthless breaths of laughter.  "...what?"

Gaster's laughter melded into dry sobs, his eyelights dim and looking close to flickering out entirely.  "....Papyrus...isn't Sans's brother," he said quietly, his voice shaking as badly as his hands.  "...He...was just kind enough...caring enough...to take Papyrus in after....I was gone."  He gave Grillby a helpless look.  "...Papyrus is my son."

The pale shade of yellow Grillby's flames took was actually conveying the horrified sickness that Gaster expected.  He leaned against the bar, gazing at the other end of the restaurant without focus.  "....yeah," he said before taking another drag from his cigarette.  "....but as inbred and elitist as the Gasters were, they weren't ever...like THIS."  He rubbed his nasal bone, his migraine pounding at his skull.  "I can't imagine WHY Papyrus...why he'd...."  He gestured helplessly before dropping his hand onto the floor.  Grillby did the same, the two sitting in painful silence.

"...as far as I know, he's always been possessive of Sans," Grillby replied.  "It just didn't hit that state until...that time twelve years ago.  I don't understand why either."

Gaster frowned, his brow ridge narrowing as he sat up, his eyelights glowing brighter.  "...Grillby, how old did you say Papyrus was when it happened?"  Grillby gave Gaster a confused look.

"...he was fourteen, why--?"

"Oh gods, it's so obvious now!"  Gaster jumped up, gesturing with his hands as he paced.  "Papyrus--he's not Sans's brother!"

"...you already made that obvious, wha--"

"Grillby, Skeletons develop sexual maturity around age thirteen!  I've never really witnessed it when I was a boy because like I said, the Gasters were somewhat distantly inbred, but I FELT it when I began my relationship with Sans!"  His gesturing became wilder, forcing himself to give them pause to run his hands over his skull.  "Oh gods, Papyrus is possessive because his instincts have claimed Sans as a potential mate!"

"...what."  Grillby's expression was more than vaguely disturbed.  "You're telling me that Papyrus has been in love with his own brother for--"

"Yes, since he was thirteen.  But I KNOW he still thinks Sans is his real brother.  That's why it never developed past this possessive state!"  Gaster began pacing again.  "No wonder he's so disturbed and messed up...his instincts are claiming Sans as a mate while his soul claims Sans as a brother...and this has been going on for fifteen YEARS...!"

"...that doesn't make any of this right," Grillby said bitterly, loosely crossing his arms over his body.  "It doesn't excuse what he did." 

Gaster sighed, his gesturing settling.  "...I know that," he said.  "But it's a step in a direction to get him help, now that we know the root of the problem."  He walked over to Grillby, kneeling down and holding the Flame Monster's shoulders.  "I apologize with every fiber of my being for what happened to you...and know that if things had worked out differently, I would have given you and Sans my blessing for happiness.  But please, don't let it taint you from future happiness either.  I'll.......I'll fix this, Grillby....I promise."

Grillby said nothing, magma-like tears dripping down his face.  Gaster squeezed Grillby's shoulders before standing.  "...I have to go fix this," he said, turning to the door.  "...thank you, for everything."  He teleported out, right for home.

The restaurant was silent as Grillby remained on the floor, too numb trying to process everything, from his past to the present, and after a few long moments, he reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone.

* * *

 

Gaster arrived in a dark house, looking around for a moment before spotting a light on in the kitchen, flexing his hands tightly as he walked in slowly, seeing Papyrus humming to himself as he worked on some food on the counter.  Gaster felt a pulsing of panic in his soul, trauma from his son's secrets crawling over his bones and bringing back that acidic sensation with a vengeance.  Every instinct in his body was telling him to RUN.  To HIDE. 

But he stayed where he was.  He had to do this.  He had to finish this.  He had to confront Papyrus.

He stepped into the kitchen, and Papyrus's humming stopped.  After a moment, Papyrus turned around, giving Gaster a smile.  "Hello, Doctor!" he said, his voice as sweet as arsenic-laced candy.  "You're back so soon, and so late!  Weren't you supposed to be gone for the weekend?"

Gaster felt a wave of nausea, now able to clearly hear the false cheeriness in Papyrus's voice, able to sense the deception that dripped on every word.  He clenched his hands tightly, now feeling...anger.  "...I know what you did," he said, his voice soft and shaking.  Papyrus's eyelights flashed sharply, the grin never wavering. 

"Oh?  Whatever do you mean, Doctor?"

"Stop it," Gaster hissed, his fists shaking.  "Just STOP it!  Drop the act right NOW!"  He took another step into the kitchen, fighting to keep his tears back.  "I KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO ME!  I KNOW!"  He took a deep, shaky breath.  "Enough games, Papyrus.  Enough of your emotional and psychological GAMES.  I know that you've been....touching me...conditioning me in my sleep..."  He forced the nausea back, forced his voice to remain strong.  "I know all about it.  And it's very possibly RUINED my relationship with Sans, just as you intended it!  But I want it to stop RIGHT NOW!"

The two Skeletons stood in silence for a long, torturous moment before Papyrus calmly set his mixing spoon down, untied his apron, and folded it neatly onto the counter before turning to Gaster.

"...prove it."

Gaster felt a flash of cold envelop him.  "...what?"

"Prove it."  Papyrus crossed his arms, a gleam in his eyelights.  "Surely if you have such a dastardly claim against me, you must have some PROOF of it."  He gave Gaster a once-over.  "Any marks on you?  Did anyone SEE me doing what you're insinuating I did?  Any video footage?"  He cocked his head, taking in Gaster's silence.  "...not saying anything, I see.  That's to be expected."

"Stop it."

"Perhaps it's just your mind playing tricks on you," Papyrus continued, stepping closer to Gaster.  "I mean, I AM a very aesthetically-pleasing Skeleton, after all.  Could it simply be a case of you just lusting after your boyfriend's baby brother?"

"STOP IT--"  Gaster reeled back, feeling the bile of magical residue behind his teeth, jumping when Papyrus slammed his hand on the wall next to his head, looming over him like a deadly predator, eyelights gleaming brightly.

"I tried being subtle about my dislike for you, Doctor," Papyrus said flatly.  "But you just couldn't take the hint that you weren't wanted.  So I took a more underhanded approach..."  He reached up and brushed his fingers over Gaster's face, and Gaster was horrified when his cheekbones flushed and his body relaxed on cue.  "And I admit, I actually began to think that if Sans would just break up with you, I might enjoy having your company around.  You're intelligent, passionate, orderly...and I confess that I may have gotten attached to you during our little sessions."  He leaned closer, and Gaster felt like his soul was going to pound right out of his rib cage.  "So here's your one last chance, Doctor...and a choice that I think we can both live with, if we give it a go."  He took Gaster's mandible in his hand, his right eyelight glowing brighter and Gaster could see a tongue form behind Papyrus's teeth.

"Break it off with Sans, and I'll take his place."

Gaster felt all color and feeling drain from his bones, static filling his skull at the horrifying option in front of him.  His bones shook, unable to scream what he WANTED, unable to tell the TRUTH--

"You're taking quite awhile," Papyrus huffed.  "Grillby took awhile too, but he was easy enough to convince.  Toriel...oh, but I actually like her, but it took little encouragement for her to focus more on her school and her students.  But you..."  His fingers flexed into Gaster's mandible.  "Perhaps you need a little more... ** _convincing_**."  He pressed his teeth to Gaster's, his bones rattling with soft growling.  Gaster almost wailed with the helplessness he was feeling, his body betraying him to Papyrus's will and cursing, not for the first time, his unity with the Scripts and his father for giving Papyrus this power.  He wanted to cry.  He wanted to DIE.  But he couldn't do anything but take a backseat to his own body as Papyrus forced his magic to form a tongue to play with for a few second before the younger Skeleton leaned back and licked his teeth.

"Tell me, Doctor," he purred, his grin widening almost unnaturally, "when you were fucking my brother, whose name did you scream?"

Gaster let out a choked sob, tears streaming down his face.  ".....stop it....." he whimpered, shaking his head.  "Stop it..."  He flinched when Papyrus brushed the tears away.

"Oh, don't cry now, Doctor," Papyrus cooed, leaning in close again.  "You'll have MANY more opportunities to scream my name later after my brother dumps you."

"Papyrus?"

Both Skeletons froze, turning their heads to the living room and seeing Sans standing there, looking horrified and haunted, eyelights almost nonexistent.  In his hand was his cell phone that had a text from Grillby saying he had to get home NOW.  Sans numbly stepped forward, pinpricked eyelights dashing between the two taller Skeletons, looking like his entire world had been shattered before him.

"...what have you DONE?"

* * *

* * *

 

* * *

 

_What had he DONE?_

_Gaster sat in his office, his skull in his hands and his whole body shaking as he finally let it sink in that he had just destroyed what would have been his greatest work, and had ordered it to be melted in the Core.  And so it had.  It was GONE, and years of his vision was gone with it._

_It could have WORKED!  A few more test runs, spaced out as so to make sure the test subjects were stable and living, and it would have WORKED!  He had RUINED that, all in a fit of rage._

**_You can remake_ _it,_** _h_ _is mind whispered._ ** _You can build it again, at half the time.  You still have test subjects left to use._**

_This was true...he DID...and he COULD.  And this time, he would make sure Sans would not go anywhere near it._

_In fact...the first thing he would use it for would be to go back and keep Sans from being hurt in the first place._

_He lifted his head, a glimmer of hope back in his eyelights.  Yes.  Yes, this was good.  He could do it.  He WOULD do it._

_***_

_"ARE YOU FUCKIN' KIDDING ME!?"_

_Gaster flinched back as Sans shouted at him, the smaller Skeleton almost launching himself out of bed at Gaster and being held back by a nurse.  It had been three days since he'd regained consciousness, and his constitution was becoming stronger, even if his HP remained at one.  Gaster had chosen today to tell Sans, but now he wished he hadn't said anything.  "Sans, please, be reasonable--"_

_"REASONABLE!?"  Sans's left eyelight began sparking.  "WINGDINGS, THAT MACHINE ALMOST FUCKIN' KILLED ME!  I SAW THINGS I NEVER SHOULD HAVE SEEN IN THAT THING!"  He began hyperventilating, the nurse quietly using her magic to calm his soul before his own emotions disrupted his HP.  He slumped back, already exhausting himself with his outburst.  "...Wingdings, promise me you won't remake that machine."_

_"What?!"  Gaster jumped to his feet.  "Sans, this machine could be the solution to EVERYTHING!  I could use it to go back and keep this from happening to you--"_

_"DON'T you FUCKIN' DARE use me as your crutch, you bastard!" Sans snapped.  "Time an' space shouldn't be fucked with, an' I know that more than ANYONE now!"  He gestured to himself, forcing his stats out for Gaster to see._

**_SANS SERIF_ **

**_HP: 1_ **

**_ATK: 1_ **

**_DEF: 1_ **

_"THIS is what happens when ya try to play in the gods' territory!"  Sans slumped back again, tears streaming down his face.  "...I dunno....why I'm fuckin' alive....I should'a died in there, Wingdings..."  
_

_"Sans, no--"_

_"I SHOULD'A FUCKIN' DIED!"  Sans covered his face with his hands.  "I SHOULD'A DIED!  I SHOULD'A DIED THEN, I SHOULD'A DIED NOW--!"  He broke off into sobs, burying his face in his pillow.  Gaster reached out, but the nurse shook her head._

_"You should give him space," she said, the disapproval of Sans's condition and how it came to be thick on her voice.  "Upsetting him too much could damage what little HP he has left."_

_Gaster lowered his hand and stepped back, turning to the door.  "....I'll fix this..." he said, mostly to himself.  "I'll fix this....I'll fix this..."  He left the room, heading for his labs._

_"I'll fix this..."_


	21. Chapter 21

_Gaster paced around his office, looking more like a black panther on the prowl than a scientist.  He was running on two weeks without sleep, without REST, but he didn't care.  He had to fix this, he had to PLAN something to make everything right again._

_Alphys kept visiting his office, begging him to rest, pushing him to eat, reminding him that Papyrus needed his father--and that was the only thing that gave Gaster any pause.  His son.  His son needed him.  But he had to keep working, keep thinking, to make things right with Sans._

_He told Alphys to take Papyrus to Sans, he needed just a little while longer to work on a solution.  She held the baby bones in her arms, weighing her choices before sighing and nodding before walking away.  He supposed that must have been awhile ago, if the amount of times he'd seen the hands on the clock go around and around was anything to go by._

_He was exhausted.  His body was begging him to rest, but his mind kept wringing him back up out of his chair, whispering **You are so close now** and **You can't stop now** **.** He couldn't find the will to ignore it because he felt it was RIGHT.  If he rested, he would lose what progress he was making in finding a solution.  _

_He kept thinking the same things._

_The Core._

_The machine._

_The Core._

_The machine._

_The Core._

_The machine._

_......that was IN the Core._

_His pinpricked eyelights flicked in the direction of the Core, feeling a pulling, a BECKONING from it.  He stepped out of his office and slowly made his way to it, piecing together the revelation._

_His machine...it HAD to have still had some time-and-space-bending properties...and the Core was a source of energy...._

_The Core....providing energy to the rest of the machine..._

_...he could do it..._

_.......he could still use the machine......._

_.....to go back.........._

_.................and fix things.........._

_***_

_Sans quietly walked around his hospital room, holding Papyrus quietly as the baby bones slept after almost a full hour of crying but not wanting to stop pacing until he was SURE Papyrus would STAY asleep.  He'd been taking care of Papyrus for almost a week now, having finally told Alphys that he wouldn't let her trouble herself with bothering Gaster about it._

_He was MAD.  MADDER even than when Gaster said he wanted to rebuild the machine.  Repeating a mistake like that was nothing compared to neglecting his own son, and it was unforgivable to Sans.  Even MORE so that he knew Gaster was neglecting Papyrus in order to repeat that same goddamn mistake!_

_He had nothing to say to Gaster until the fool decided to come to his senses and acknowledge the fact that some things COULDN'T be changed.  Sans felt that he could live with his new handicap, and eventually learn to live with the nightmares that plagued him every time he slept, and if Gaster could get that through his thick skull, things would just be better for everyone._

_Especially Papyrus._

_The baby bones was as inconsolable now as when his mother died, only quieting down out of exhaustion.  Sans already knew that Papyrus was very intuitive for his age, and KNEW when something was wrong.  It made Sans madder that Gaster was causing this anxiety in Papyrus, and that if the idiot would just come out of his goddamn office once and awhile and spend some time with his son, then Papyrus wouldn't be such a wreck._

_For gods' sake, Papyrus was already stringing sounds together and was close to making WORDS, and Gaster was going to MISS that!_

_Sans slumped down on his bed, running a hand over his face.  Wow.  Here he was, his HP crippled for life, plagued by nightmares and visions, and Gaster missing Papyrus's first words was at the top of his worry list.  He really WAS in it too deep now, wasn't he?  He settled back, cuddling the baby bones to him quietly for several long moments before he heard a panicked discourse outside his hospital room.  
_

_He frowned, his instincts telling him that this wasn't just a case of an accident or a Monster falling down, and he quietly headed over to the door, opening it in time for a healer to cry out,_

_"Someone call the King before Gaster jumps!"_

_Sans's eyelights shot to pinpricks, bolting out of his room and over to the healer.  "What's going on!?" he demanded.  "Where's Gaster!?_

_"Sans, you need to go back to your room--"_

_"WHERE THE HELL IS GASTER!?" Sans shouted, his left eyelight blazing like fire.  The healer blanched, shakily pointing out of the hospital._

_"He--he's over the Core!" he stammered.  "He's standing on the railing right over the Core!"_

_Sans shoved the healer away and took off as fast as his legs could carry him, ignoring the burn in his body, ignoring the strain he was pressing onto his HP, ignoring EVERYTHING except the worst scenario running through his mind as he made his way to the Core, where a crowd had already gathered with many shouting for Gaster to come back over to safety._

_Above the Core, standing on the thin, rickety railing, was Gaster, holding onto a pipe and staring down into the magma that fueled his creation and illuminating his pale skull and hands like red embers.  Sans shoved his way past everyone to the front, his soul pounding in his rib cage._

_"WINGDINGS!" he shouted, holding Papyrus to him almost in a death grip.  "WINGDINGS, GET DOWN FROM THERE!"  Everyone around him went quiet, hoping he would be able to talk some sense into the Head Royal Scientist._

_Gaster slowly looked over, and even from here, Sans knew that there was no logic, no reason, NOTHING in those blank eye sockets.  Gaster gave Sans a grin that seemed unnaturally twisted and wide, and it made Sans feel like his spine was turned to ice._

_"Sans!  You needn't worry, my dearest love!" Gaster called down.  "I promised that I would fix this, and I will!"_

_"BY THROWIN' YERSELF INTO TH' DAMN CORE!?" Sans shouted back, close to tears by this point.  "FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WINGDINGS, I TOLD YA, DON'T TRY TO DO THIS!"_

_Gaster gestured to the Core.  "I realize it now, Sans!" he called back, sounding almost drunkenly joyous.  "I threw the pieces of my machine into the Core!  It has given what's left of it POWER!  I've SEEN it, Sans!"  He let go of the pipe with one hand to gesture excitedly.  "I've SEEN how I'm able to achieve my magnum opus--I've SEEN how I can fix EVERYTHING!"_

_"YER OUTTA YER MIND!" Sans screamed, tears streaming down his cheekbones.  "IF YOU GO IN THERE, YER NOT COMIN' BACK!  YER LEAVIN' ME AN' PAPYRUS!  THAT'S ALL THAT'S COMIN' OUTTA YOU JUMPIN'!"_

_"Don't cry, Sans!  I promise, I'll make everything okay again!  And when I'm done, you and I and Papyrus will all be a family!"  Gaster gave Sans a wide smile before lowering his gaze to the Core.  Sans felt a sharp flare of magic pierce through his soul, and all he wanted to be was THERE.  WITH GASTER_

_UP_

_THERE_

_ON_

_THE_

_RAILING_

_And with a suffocating flash of darkness and a blinding hit of light--he WAS._

_HE WAS HERE--_

_.......and gods......so fucking TIRED......_

_.............Wingdings..........!_

_Sans looked up, seeing Gaster's turned back and weakly reaching a hand out, calling on--BEGGING--his magic to take hold of Gaster's soul and pull him back._

_.......but it never came._

_Instead, Gaster's hand let go of the pipe at the same time the taller Skeleton turned to see Sans right THERE--WITHIN ARM'S REACH--and sanity and recognition entered his eye sockets for a brief second_

_...before he fell._

_Sans gaped at the spot where Gaster was.....where he JUST WAS......deaf to the horrified screams of the crowd below as he numbly looked down and saw Gaster's horrified expression and outstretched hands, less than a second before he was consumed by the Core._

_And likewise, Sans was consumed by darkness._

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Sans's eyelights flicked between Gaster and Papyrus, his hand shaking and threatening to crack the screen of his phone.  There was a tangible air of disbelief, of disgust, of HORROR around him, one that didn't fade even slightly, as Papyrus slowly backed away from Gaster and Sans's eyelights honed in on him.  "...Papyrus...what have you DONE?"

Papyrus had nothing.  His jaw twitched, unable to come up with something--anything--to diffuse this now that it had been witnessed.  "I........Sans, I...."

Sans took a step forward.  "What have you done?" he repeated, his voice shaking.  "You...you were..."

"Sans...I can...I was........how...long were you--"

"Long enough to hear shit I NEVER wanted to EVER hear!" Sans snapped, his eye sockets dampening.  "You've been SABOTAGING my relationships--you've been LYING to me for YEARS--you've been......you....with WINGDINGS--!"  He looked ill, shaking his head with disbelief, eyelights flickering to Gaster, who was shaking so hard his bones were rattling.  "....why?"  His hand lowered, dropping his cell phone on the floor.  "...why would you DO this, Papyrus...WHY?"

Papyrus's hands clenched, looking contrite in the face of his brother's pain.  "...I didn't mean to hurt you, Sans..." he replied.  "...I NEVER want to hurt you...please believe that..."

"I don't know what to fuckin' believe anymore," Sans muttered, clenching his eye sockets shut.  "...you...how th' FUCK do think I feel about this, Papyrus!?  Gettin' a text from Grillby sayin' I gotta get home RIGHT AWAY because of an EMERGENCY, an' I come home to THIS!"  He gestured wildly around the area.  "To YOU admittin' that you've been SABOTAGING my LIFE!  HIS life!"  He pointed to Gaster, who still didn't look any better.  "What.......I.......WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

The question echoed through the room in dead silence, Papyrus jerking back as though Sans had struck him.  The younger Skeleton looked torn between pain and anger, his hands flexing tightly.

"...there is nothing......WRONG with me, brother," he replied lowly.  "...I was only...trying to protect us."

"'Us'?" Sans demanded.  "What 'us', Papyrus!?  WHO would've hurt us!?  Grillby?  Toriel?  WINGDINGS!?"  He took another heavy step forward.  "NONE of them would EVER hurt us!"

"YOU DON'T GET IT!" Papyrus shrieked, stomping his foot almost petulantly.  "THEY WOULD HAVE TAKEN YOU AWAY FROM ME!"

Sans's anger flickered down.  "...what?  What are you talkin' about?"  Papyrus growled, his clenched hands shaking.

"They would've taken you away," he repeated, his voice sounding a thousand miles away, one hand unclenching to reach up and touch over his chest.  "...I feel it...all the time.....pieces of myself...just LEAVING."  His right eyelight flickered a golden orange color.  "...someone...who smells of gold and ivory...who always used to be there...never coming back..." 

Behind him, Gaster's head shot up in painful recognition, _seeing Marcelle in his mind's eye wearing jewelry of gold and ivory._

"...someone else...who felt like warmth and smelled of cloves and coffee...leaving and never coming back"

_Him smoking his clove cigarettes and keeping coffee always running in his office._

"AND THEN UNDYNE!"  Papyrus's shouting made the other two Skeletons jump.  "MY ONLY REAL FRIEND IN THE WORLD, AND SHE'S LEAVING ME TO LIVE IN JAPAN!"  His fist shot out and punched a hole in the wall.  "AND EVEN BEFORE THAT......my.......my brother........"  He flicked his eyelights to Sans, who looked frozen in place.  "....When...we moved to Snowdin....you were ALWAYS at Grillby's!"  His teeth ground together tightly at the memory.  "Always going there to be with HIM.  He would always get you drunk, make you forget I was home waiting for you, until he was ALL you would EVER talk about!"

"....gods, Papyrus--"

"AND THEN YOU STARTED FUCKING HIM!  AND YOU WERE HOME EVEN _LESS_!"  Papyrus reached up and angrily wiped stray tears from his eye sockets.  "So I PERSUADED him to leave you alone, so you'd come back home and take care of me!  And everything was FINE!  Until you kept running off to tell knock-knock jokes to a STRANGER behind a door!"

"Paps--"

"I had NOTHING against Toriel except that SHE was trying to take you away from me too!  But I get HER reasoning!  She was lonely!  But NOW she has a school and children to look after, and I convinced her to focus on THAT."  His eyelights burned like fire.  "And then **_YOU_**....!"

He turned to Gaster, his aura almost homicidal.  "YOU came here, some forgotten lover of his, and you decided to take over EVERYTHING!  You come into MY house, you INFECT my house with your DISGUSTING SCENT--YOU INFECT MY BROTHER WITH YOUR PRESENCE--!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Sans shouted, grabbing Papyrus's arm.  "STOP IT, PAPYRUS, RIGHT NOW!"

"YOU TRY TO TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME!  YOU TRIED TO TAKE MY BIG BROTHER AWAY FROM ME!"  He jerked his arm back, grabbing Gaster's collar.  "WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HIM!?  I HAVE KNOWN HIM MY WHOLE LIFE!  HE'S _MY_ FAMILY!  HE'S **_MY BROTHER_** \--"

"YOU'RE NOT MY BROTHER!"

 Everyone went silent after Sans shouted, and Papyrus's hand trembled violently, turning to face Sans, his eyelights quivering.  "...what...?"

Sans's breath came in strangled heaves, tears streaming down his face.  His shoulders slumped down hard, looking close to passing out.  "...you're....not my brother..." he repeated, his voice hitching.  "....Paps....you're not my real brother..."

"...I don't understand...." Papyrus said, his voice shaking.  "...I don't understand, Sans....why would you say that....?"

Sans reached up, covering his face with his hands.  ".....I never wanted ya t' find out this way...." he choked out.  "...we....Paps....we don't even come from th' same FAMILY, let alone th' same CLASS.  I've....I've taken care of ya since you were a baby bones.....an' I loved ya like you WERE my own brother....but.....I'm not....an' you CAN'T keep usin' that possessive bond you have for me be an excuse anymore!"  He lowered his hand, giving Gaster a heavy, apologetic look.  "...Papyrus...Wingdings isn't just...some random Skeleton I used t' know.  An' I wasn't just talkin' when I said you haven't seen him since you were small.  In fact....HE was th' one who introduced you to me."

Papyrus turned and looked at Gaster, who looked as though he wished to dust himself just to avoid all of this entirely, but his eyelights were pleading and almost...hopeful?

"...Papyrus...Wingdings...is yer dad."

Papyrus let go of Gaster as though the older Skeleton had been set on fire, letting Gaster drop to the floor in a shaking, crying mess.  Sans hurried over, sitting Gaster up quietly and curling his arms around him tightly before looking back up at Papyrus.  "...I'm...so fuckin' sorry I never told ya, Paps..." Sans murmured.  "...but...I didn't think there was anything WRONG with bein' yer brother!  An'...I've loved you since BEFORE I was th' only one takin' care of ya!  An'.....an' I never thought that Wingdings...would come back...!"  He wiped at his eye sockets with his sleeve.  "...you don't...have ta be like this, Paps......I didn't abandon ya when Wingdings disappeared......an' I'd NEVER leave you behind!  If we go somewhere, you're comin' with us, because that's what families DO!"

He clenched his hand before slowly raising it out at Papyrus.  "....not talkin' got us into this shit.....I want us to TALK now, Paps...to clear th' air of EVERYTHING, so we can all heal...so we CAN be a family, FINALLY!"

Papyrus stood where he was, a hand over his teeth and his pinpricked eyelights quivering in his eye sockets.  His eyelights flickered to Sans's hand, his own hand lowering from his face.  "...you....are not my brother...." he said slowly, then gestured slightly to Gaster.  "...and....he is my....my father....not yours...."

"No, no, of course not," Sans said quietly, giving Papyrus a hesitant smile.  "He's your father, Papyrus."  He heard Gaster let out a strangled sob and tightened his arm around him.  Papyrus's shoulders dropped, his aura looking like someone had flipped the switch off.  "...Papyrus...I..."

"...it's....alright, Sans.....I...understand now...." Papyrus interrupted, his voice almost breathy soft.  "...I...finally understand..."

His hand shot out, grabbing Gaster by the soul and hurling him into the wall hard, his aura flaring up brightly.  "I FINALLY UNDERSTAND IT!  I HAVEN'T BEEN VYING FOR YOU AS YOUR BROTHER!  YOU REALLY _ARE_ MINE!"

"WINGDINGS!" Sans shouted, jumping up to go help, only to be stopped by a blue hold on his soul.  "Papyrus, STOP--!"

"If he is relation to me, then he's just competition for you!" Papyrus hissed, stalking toward the slumped form on the floor with an intent to dust in his eyelight.  "I've ALWAYS been there, Sans!  I would never leave you, not like HE did!"  He raised his hand, forming several sharp bones mid-air.

"PAPYRUS, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP!"

"I'LL BE BETTER THAN HIM!  I'LL LOVE YOU BETTER THAN HE DID!  NO ONE WILL EVER COME BETWEEN US AGAIN!"

"PAPYRUS--!"

Sans was cut off when Gaster lurched up from the floor and drove his fist into Papyrus's face.  Papyrus yelped, stumbling backwards as his bones vanished from the air, putting a hand over his stinging face.  Gaster glowered at Papyrus, his eyelights blazing purple and his breathing sounding almost beast-like, teeth gnashing hard.  "I was stupid enough to let myself die once," he hissed, drawing his arm back and forming his own bones mid-air.  "AND I WILL BE GOD DAMNED IF I WILL EVER LET ANYTHING KEEP ME AWAY FROM SANS AGAIN!  EVEN YOU!"

Papyrus snarled, sending a volley of bones at Gaster, who shattered them all with his own before bolting at the younger Skeleton and taking another swing at him.  Papyrus teleported out of the way and kicked him in the back, sending him crashing into the wall again.

Instead of stunning him, Gaster only looked ANGRIER, his eyelights almost blazing out of his eye sockets and his magic forming black tendrils of magic that spiked into the wall and launched him off of it and into Papyrus, and sent the two Skeletons clawing and snapping at each other like starving beasts out for blood.

Sans could only stare numbly from his frozen spot on the floor, absently recalling a tale his father once told him of Skeleton culture before the War; of how it was a common practice for Skeletons to fight for the attentions of a shared mate interest.  Cancun had recanted that his wife Matisse had fought against her best friend for mateship, and Sans recalled that he could hardly believe his gentle, loving mother had done something as common as FIGHT.  Even then, he just kept thinking of sparring, of verbal lashings, even a war of who could out-flatter the intended.

But THIS....this display of biting, clawing, howling mess with intention to KILL the competition...THIS was what his father had been talking about!?  This horrendous display of barbarism that turned gentle, kind, logical loved ones into backstabbing, murderous creatures? 

It was too much.

This was just TOO FUCKING MUCH.

His left eyelight flared as he forced his magic to break his soul free from Papyrus's hold, more happy than ever that Papyrus wasn't as proficient at it than he was, and made a move to hurry between them, freezing when--

_"That seems kinda mean, Pops.  Why didn't anyone stop 'em from fighting?"_

_"Sans, it would be a fool's death wish to get between two Skeletons fighting for the love of a mate.  Until one of 'em goes down an' STAYS down, even the mate they're fightin' for isn't safe.  Reason is lost to that sort, an' you can only hope for th' best."_

Sans covered his skull with his hands, shaking violently.  This had to stop.  IT HAD TO STOP.  HE DIDN'T WANT GASTER OR PAPYRUS HURT BECAUSE OF HIM.

Gaster and Papyrus weren't even consciously using magic by this point; their only thought was to PUT THE OTHER DOWN.  Bones sprung up and came down hard, but they almost always missed, neither having the attention control to make the hits land properly, while their claws and teeth were doing most of the damage.  Bones had already been cracked and snapped, claw-marks already digging in deep and drawing marrow, neither wanting to part from the other until they stopped moving.  Gaster's tendrils kept snapping out at Papyrus's limbs, but Papyrus's bone constructs would pierce them through until Gaster could wrench them away.  Gaster pressed his bleeding forearms against Papyrus's neck bones as the younger Skeleton snapped at him, trying to bite his skull in.

Finally, a tendril managed to snap around Papyrus's spine and fling him off of Gaster and give Gaster enough time to focus his magic and hurl bones at Papyrus's form.  Papyrus's eye sockets went pitch black as he let out a commanding shriek, the bones quivering mid-air and being thrown in odd directions the other way. 

One right for Sans's skull.

"SANS--!"

Sans jumped when he felt a larger body cover his own and not a moment later a sharp gasp be let out when the force of something hit his shield.  Sans's whole body shook as he peered up and saw Papyrus looming over him, covering his body with his own, a large bone spike sticking out of his rib cage, several of his own ribs shattered.

Papyrus numbly looked down at the bone spike sticking out of him, and all the fight left his body, seeping out like a bloodletting and draining him of a metaphorical poison as his instincts told him _'you've lost'_.  Small, shaking hands held him up by the shoulders and he numbly looked down seeing Sans staring up at him with dousing eye sockets. 

"....P...Paps....y...you....why....?" Sans stammered.  Papyrus slowly blinked his eye sockets, giving Sans a smile that Sans had always known, and always loved. 

"...silly questions, Sans..." he said hoarsely.  "...why...wouldn't I...protect.....my brother.....?"  His body slumped, his HP draining fast, and Sans quickly supported him upright to keep from jostling the bone spike.  Sans was in a panic; he couldn't stop the HP from draining, he couldn't dispel the bone HE COULDN'T SAVE HIS LITTLE BROTHER--

Gaster stared at the bone sticking out from his son's rib cage, his hands over his teeth in dawning horror that he had very well just lost either a lover or a son, and it seemed to be his son that he was losing.  What had he done?  What had he been DOING!?  This WASN'T HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!

He jerked his magic back, dispelling the bone and leaving a clear hole in Papyrus's rib cage where the ribs had been shattered.  Every instinct that had previously been telling him KILL FIGHT CLAIM YOUR MATE was now screaming at him to SAVE HIS SON.  He scrambled over, taking Papyrus from Sans's hold and looking him over while trying to quell his panic and FOCUS.  He had an MD in Skeleton healing.  He had family magic to boost his intention.  He was Papyrus's father.  And no matter how much Papyrus had hurt him, that was not changing this fact.

Gaster hovered his hand over the broken rib cage, his magic seeping out despite his exhaustion.  Papyrus's HP draining slowed, but it did not stop, and the younger Skeleton was going limp in his hold, eye sockets empty of all light like...

...like he had fallen down.

"Papyrus, please!" Sans was sobbing, holding Papyrus's hand tightly.  "Paps, don't you dare!  You're stronger than this!  You...I.....I can't....."  He sobbed, holding Papyrus's hand to his chest.  "...I can't do this without my little brother.....please......PLEASE!"

Gaster lowered his hand so it rested on Papyrus's broken rib cage.  He had never felt so much fear in his entire life, with his son dying in his arms, and feeling as helpless as Sans when Tyke died in HIS arms.  Sans had been witness to the most painful thing possible, and Gaster could do nothing about it.

....but he wouldn't let Sans suffer like that again.

Sans jerked hard, his breath being stolen away as it did when he first began teleporting--the crushing, airless, vacuum of the Void being passed through...but this time it wasn't passing.  Pitch black was all he could see, all he could FEEL--

He was in the Void.

He wanted to die.  He wanted to DIE, just so he wouldn't be a part of this ENDLESS NIGHTMARE...but the endlessness...well, ended. 

He blinked once, and suddenly Gaster was there, holding Papyrus suspended out in front of him.  Papyrus's HP was at .5...but it was STAYING there instead of draining away further.  Gaster raised his hands and rested them on Papyrus's shattered rib cage, his eye sockets melding in perfectly with the Void as blackness began to seep from them, trailing down his cheek bones, over his clavicle, down his arms, and out of his fingertips into Papyrus's ribs, which began to restructure themselves and mend.

The sight should have been comforting, but Sans knew he was looking at something...unnatural.  This was the Void, a place that existed and should not exist, the nexus of time and space, everything, and nothing, and he was HERE, witnessing Gaster use it to fix Papyrus's body from a wound that should be fatal.

Gaster was doing what Sans never wanted him to do--use the Void to play god.

But Sans had never felt so blasphemously grateful in his life.

**I CAN FIX SO MUCH MORE, SANS.**

Sans jumped, hearing Gaster's voice in his skull--even in every bone in his body!--and turned back to the other two Skeletons; Gaster was still focusing on Papyrus.  _What do you mean?_ Sans asked in his mind, unable to speak any other way.

**PAPYRUS CANNOT NATURALLY CHANGE FIFTEEN YEARS OF HIS OWN MENTAL CONDITIONING.  HE WILL NEVER LET GO OF THE PERVERSE HATRED HE HAS HARBORED OVER THAT TIME.  AND HIS FEELINGS FOR YOU WILL NEVER NATURALLY CHANGE.  BUT I CAN FIX IT, WITHOUT NEGATING THE TIMELINE AND CAUSING A PARADOX.**

_....what?  How?  
_

**PAPYRUS WILL BECOME BETTER, HIS MIND FIXED AND HIS SOUL PURIFIED.  BUT IT WILL REQUIRE A GREAT SACRIFICE ON YOUR PART, SANS.  PERHAPS MORE THAN YOU COULD BEAR.  AND IT IS BECAUSE OF THAT SACRIFICE THAT I ASK YOUR PERMISSION TO DO THIS.  DO YOU TRUST ME, SANS?  
**

Gaster finally turned away from Papyrus, looking at Sans with those pitch-black Voids of eye sockets. 

And despite the terrifying, unknown sight....

...because of everything he had seen, felt, WITNESSED....

He did.

_....I trust you, Wingdings._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's nearing the end, folks--just an epilogue to go, and it'll be over.


	22. Epilogue

Despite the novelty of it all, Sans enjoyed winter.  Everything was quieter, the snow reminded him of home, and his favorite foods and drinks became comforts rather than treats.  And despite the chill in the house, he enjoyed getting up early in the winter; it was better than curling up in an empty bed for longer than he had to. 

He walked downstairs, yawning and stretching his joins, grinning when he smelled coffee brewed up on the kitchen counter.  "Heh, did you even sleep at ALL last night?" he asked, leaning over the back of a chair to kiss his boyfriend's skull.  Gaster rolled his eyelights, sipping from his own cup. 

"Of course I did, you were there," he muttered, taking a break from his paperwork to focus on Sans.  The smaller Skeleton fetched a cup from the cabinet and poured himself out a cup, not bothering with sugar as he sipped it lightly and stared out the kitchen window.  "...how are you this morning?"

Sans shrugged a little, not looking out from the window.  "...I'm alright," he replied.  "A little achy from winter joints, but what else is new for old-timers like us?"

"By Skeleton standards, we're still in our youth, Sans," Gaster said.  "...and you know what I mean."

The two went silent for awhile, until the silence was broken by the front door bursting open and Papyrus running in, flinging bits of snow here and there.  Sans ducked out of the way and took his coffee to the safety of the dining room table as Papyrus began grabbing a few things from the fridge and tossing them into a bag.  "...what's the big hurry, Paps?" Sans asked, mildly amused. 

Papyrus beamed.  "Undyne, Alphys, and Frisk and I are going down to the lake to go ice skating!" he exclaimed excitedly.  "And Undyne wants to try out 'ice hockey', and I'm pretty sure we're going to be there for awhile so I need to pack some snacks!"  He resumed his packing, throwing a few packets of hot cocoa mix into the bag before hoisting it over his shoulder.  "I should be back sometime the evening."

"Alright, Paps," Sans said, sipping his coffee.  "You have fun today."

"Sure will!  Bye, Sans!"  He hurried past, pausing to double-back and give Gaster a hug.  "Bye, Dad!"  He let go and waved to the both of them, hurrying outside where Undyne was shouting for Papyrus to hurry and get his tailbone in the car.

The house was silent after that for a good few long moments before Gaster exhaled heavily and let his shoulders drop.  Sans's fingers unclenched from the coffee cup, one hand letting go to reach over and hold Gaster's hand.  "...hey," he said softly, lacing his fingers with Gaster's.  "...you okay?"

Gaster nodded, tightening his hold on Sans's hand.  "...I am," he replied.  "I'm...just still not used to it, is all."

THAT was the understatement of the century, Sans thought to himself as he brought Gaster's hand up to kiss it, letting the taller Skeleton calm himself for a few minutes, same as he ALWAYS did after Papyrus showed him any affection.  It was difficult for the both of them, coping with what had happened before and learning to live with how it was now.  Too much had happened, and it was going to be a long time before either of them felt comfortable again.

Sans took a long, thoughtful sip of his coffee, recalling back to THAT day...the day he discovered everything he thought he knew was wrong.  He had watched Gaster and Papyrus tear into each other over him, and it broke his heart to pieces, but not as much as almost seeing his brother die.  Not as much as accepting what had to happen for his brother to live and be happy again.

He couldn't stand the idea of his little brother having all that history of possession and hate weighing his soul down.  He couldn't stand knowing that Papyrus had suffered such confusing and mixed feelings based on Sans keeping him ignorant of his true origins for so long, and Sans had agreed to Gaster's methods of fixing Papyrus.

And Gaster had been right.  It WAS a hefty sacrifice he had to make for it.  And all he could do was watch as Gaster took apart Papyrus's memories and rewrote them from scratch.

Gone was every memory of Papyrus growing up as Sans's little brother.

Instead, he now had memories of growing up as Gaster's son, separated from Sans for some years after the Skeleton genocide and reuniting again during a trip to Snowdin, where Gaster renewed a relationship with him.  Instead of growing up possessive, Papyrus grew up with two fathers, happy and healthy up to the time the Barrier broke.

Sans knew he should be happy.  Papyrus now had memories of growing up loved and cared for by his family.  But every special moment he had, every cornerstone memory with Papyrus was gone from the young Skeleton's mind forever. 

Sans only wished he could say the same.  While Gaster DID give him shadows of those memories he gave Papyrus in order to link the younger's memories up, Sans could still remember the REAL everything.  He could remember raising Papyrus on his own, teaching Papyrus how to walk, hearing Papyrus's first words, teaching him magic, sending him to school, encouraging his hopes and dreams, being his beloved big brother.

And it was all gone. 

The bond he had with Papyrus was gone.

It was hard, getting used to this new bond, as a stepfather of sorts to Papyrus.  Papyrus loved him just as much as before, if not in the same way, but it still felt like something was LACKING.  He knew what it was.  On a completely different wavelength that Papyrus had bonded him on, Sans had claimed that baby bones as his own kin twenty-odd years ago, to the point where Papyrus could even use a semblance of the Serif family magic.  But since Gaster's memory rewrite, that bond was...gone.

Papyrus no longer had the ability to use blue magic.  Instead, he was proficient in the Gaster family magics, as well as the Mystics and the Scripts.  He was strong and powerful, but he was also humble and loving and barely used it at all.  There was no need to when he was content with his friends and family on the Surface, right?

The official story about Papyrus's new memories was that Papyrus suffered an accident in Gaster's home lab that skewed off memories.  It was a perfect opportunity to tell everyone the truth about Papyrus's parentage (those that didn't know, anyway) and let everyone know what was happening at the time and how to cope with it.  It was easy enough, as everything from Frisk's falling into the Underground up to now was almost the same, just with Gaster in the picture.

Undyne was still Papyrus's best friend, though Papyrus was more interested in engineering than being in the Royal Guard now.

Grillby was informed too, and Papyrus's rewritten memory of HIM was that they didn't get along all that well by being culinary rivals.  It was fine by Grillby, who (understandably) preferred that Papyrus not be all that friendly or close to him at all, everything considered.

Papyrus was in school now, wanting to do something with his engineering prowess, and now had dreams of being in charge of the future Cores around the world, wanting a father/son collaboration to fit his philanthropic disposition.  Both Gaster and Sans encouraged this, wanting to get a new, fresh start on their lives and go where the future took them all.

...the nights were the hardest.  The trauma of everything that happened was still fresh in Gaster and Sans's minds.  It was hard playing happy family when Gaster could still remember his own son Script-speaking and violating his body, and when Sans had his entire world come crashing down and seeing who his brother had become, and WHY.  Gaster was difficult to get comfortably close to because of that reason, and all Sans could do when Gaster had a nightmare was lie next to him until it was over, or be as close as he could whenever Papyrus was home from his busy college and social life.

It was difficult now, being grateful that Papyrus was hardly ever home nowadays, and feeling that lurch of panic and suspicion whenever Papyrus hugged his two fathers.  Gaster and Sans spoke at length about erasing THOSE memories away from their own minds, but neither did anything about it, too afraid of repercussions that might happen as a result.  But talking about it between themselves--and with Grillby--did help.

One day, Sans knew, Gaster could hug Papyrus without tensing up or being triggered by the past.  One day, Sans would stop feeling as though he went somewhere wrong in raising Papyrus on his own.  One day, Grillby would forgive Papyrus for what he had done.

But for now, Sans held Gaster's hand tightly, sipped the rest of his coffee in silence, and hoped that everyone had a beautiful day.

* * *

* * *

 

* * *

 

_Sans jerked awake with a gasp, his arm flying out and eye blazing blue as he reached out and tried to catch a soul that wasn't there with blue magic.  Just as he had done the last umpteen times he had fallen asleep.  He sighed, rubbing his eye sockets and laid back, staring up at the hospital ceiling blankly._

_How long had he even BEEN here, he wondered to himself.  How long since he'd even gotten out of this bed?  How long since he'd held Papyrus--_

_Oh GODS, Papyrus!_

_Sans's eye flashed, yelping as a suffocating darkness enveloped him and spat him back out into another room altogether, flat on his face.  He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his skull, looking over when he heard soft whimpering in the corner.  He hurried over, seeing Papyrus sniffling and whimpering as he sometimes did before bawling, and quickly scooped the baby bones up, holding him tightly as he looked around._

_Where WAS he?  Why was Papyrus here?  Who had taken him from Sans?_

_Voices outside the door answered those questions._

_"I thought I heard the kid crying..."_

_"...he's settled down now.  No need to bother him."_

_Sans scowled.  They should at LEAST have checked on him!  He held Papyrus tighter and crept closer to the door._

_"...last of the Gaster clan, though.  Never thought Wingdings would have gone crazy enough to jump like that."_

_"More merciful a death than falling down."_

_"Still.  And leaving a baby behind?  I've heard that kid has a triple-whammy of the strongest Skeleton families.  Imagine the kind of power he'll have one day."_

_"Makes ya think, doesn't it?"  Sans didn't like this one's tone.  "What if the kid grows up and finds out what happened to his species?  What if he'll want revenge?"_

_"...what are you getting at?"_

_"C'mon, a baby that small without either parent?  Kids have dusted for less than that down here, what would be the difference with THIS one?"_

_Sans jerked away from the door, his eyelight flaring with rage and fear.  These Guards--who were supposed to be protecting Papyrus--were contemplating DUSTING him!_

_He couldn't let that happen._

_He WOULDN'T let that happen!_

_Magic crackled around his eye socket as he focused.  As he thought of the place furthest from the Capitol, where he could hide, where he could be SAFE--_

_Where PAPYRUS could be safe._

_And with another suffocating suck of darkness, Sans fell to his knees in the snow, barely catching himself from pitching forward and smothering Papyrus in a drift.  Papyrus was wailing from the experience and Sans was sure the major temperature change wasn't helping.  He glanced around, noticing that Waterfall wasn't too far from here, and thought that maybe Snowdin was a bit much for Papyrus now._

_He stood up, tucking Papyrus's blanket around him snugly and held the baby bones to him, shushing him quietly.  "It's alright, Paps," he said softly, smiling when Papyrus stopped crying and peered up at him from the snug confines of the blanket.  "I'll take care of ya, don't you worry."  He trekked towards Waterfall, glad the place held the garbage dump; he needed something other than these hospital clothes to wear.  "I'll make sure you won't want for anything.  You're gonna be happy, an' healthy, an' so strong one day.  No one's gonna hurt you while I'm here."_

_Papyrus let out a contented gurgle, nestling his head against Sans's rib cage.  Sans smiled, feeling a pulse of love for this beautiful small bones, pressing his teeth to Papyrus's covered skull._

_"You go to sleep now, little bro," he said, walking into a cavern that lead to Waterfall.  "I'll look out for ya."_

_The warmer, damp air soothed the sting on his bones as he made his way toward the garbage dump, already planning his new life with his new little brother._

* * *

 

_A dark shape in the peripheral watched the two Skeletons enter the cavern, reaching out helplessly as tar-like tears escaped from warped, pitch eye sockets._

_There was nothing to do._

_There was no way to convey he was there._

_So he watched them go, clasping his spindly hands to his chest._

_**....̛.M̷Y ͞S҉A͢NS̕..̢.̢..͘..҉M̧Y P̧A̧P̸Y͜R͜US̨.͏..̛.̶..̧.̷** _

_**..͝.͜.̀..͏B́E H͏APṔY̛.̨.̡..̧..̕** _

_**.͡.͡.̶...B͜E S̵AFE......** _

_**...̴..̴.I̵ L̡O͞V̡È Y͏OU͟ B̨OTH.̕.̡.̸.̸** _

_And then he vanished back into the Void.  
_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end. Holy shit, that's the end. *dies* 
> 
> Wow, I can't even begin to thank everyone who read and reviewed enough! I really can't! So here's my thanks to EVERYONE! ^_^ SO much appreciation for you all!
> 
> ...........  
> ..........  
> ....
> 
> Also, some folks were wondering how Papyrus was able to shortcut like Gaster and Sans. My theory is this: Physics.
> 
> Gaster's time in the Void EMBODIED physics, so he can Schrodinger's Cat himself.
> 
> Sans UNDERSTANDS physics because of the accident, so he rewires the coding of space to go here and there.
> 
> Papyrus? He DEFIES physics. He doesn't understand it? Fine, it doesn't exist. The guy jumped over Frisk after they befriended him in the game, clearing some trees in the process ffs. So he can defy physics to be where he wants to be. He just doesn't do it a lot because it's lazy, and he doesn't abide laziness.
> 
> So yeah. That's why. Papyrus defies physics because Papyrus fuckin' said so. XD


End file.
